lordodie

Doing a kind of, "Anal Etiquette World Tour" was the original idea behind the Madrid story. That story end up being a full sized story and I loved the characters so much that I planned on doing some sequels. I may still get around to that, but it's not on the radar at the moment. In my mind, Spain is more open to sex in public, France is fine with public nudity, and Germany is all about BDSM. Britian is a little more conservative, but still decades ahead of the US. South America has Anal Contests like the Miss Bum Bum pagents today. I only have a few rough ideas on the Far East that revolve around anime and cosplay. I'm not touching the Middle East with a 317.5' pole! (The whole region may be a sheet of glass by this time anyway. One of these days, Trump or Putin or ??? may just have had enough and do something morally questionable...) Back to better topics, I do have a mostly finished story set in Germany that I need to fill out some stuff in the middle. I might just say 'fuck it' and flesh it out a little and release it in parts. I think it's about the length of three full length chapters right now. Back to this story: it's good to know that France actually had a separation of church and state as far as marriages go. Here in the US, they are still very much entwined. Personally, I think that civil unions should be a government thing for tax and legal purposes and marriage should be strictly a religious thing that has no legal meaning. And NEVER should the two meet! That we solve quite a few scocial issues we're currently tackling! But I digress... Oh, I still foresee the wedding ceremony and banquette lasting many hours! Arielle will have to suffer happily for quite some time! I'm currently playing around with a quick prequill.

Really? I thought most straight porn these days was getting very anal oriented as well. Seems like you can't kick a rock over in any corner of the intent without finding some random woman getting nailed in the ass. Or maybe I'm just looking in the right places! Anyway, I'm glad I could change your mind and show you a better way: anal sex is not just for dudes! That should be my public service announcement for today. I still want to read about the Analia Island, damn it...

Anal Etiquette: Weddings By: Lord Odie Disclaimer: The following is a work of pure sexual fantasy and is intended for adult audiences ONLY. If you are under the age of 18, please stop reading NOW and go tell your parent and/or guardian that you need stricter internet supervision. Any physical resemblance to a real person that any fictional character herein may bear is probably intentional and is meant as a compliment. Furthermore, all fictional characters in the following fantasy are professionals and good at what they do. So please, don’t try this at home; if such things were even physically possible. If you still insist on trying this at home, please send all pictures and feedback about the experience to me. If I can’t stop you I can at least make sure you’re doing it right. Consider yourself disclaimed. Weddings It was just an ordinary Saturday afternoon in an ancient, beautiful Catholic church in the countryside just north of Bordeaux, France. The church was located within view of the bay where the Dore and Garonne rivers met on their way out to the Atlantic. People young and old were out walking enjoying the gorgeous spring weather. Men wore light shirts and loose shorts to enjoy the breeze. Women wore much tighter outfits that accentuated their curves and showed off much more skin. A significant portion of the women were basically topless with little more than wisps of fabric or narrow belts to cover their breasts. Some abdomens swelled outward from the large dildos worn inside well trained bottoms, but most had toned, flat stomachs. About half of those with flat tummies wore pants or skirts that split in the back to reveal diabolically tight gaper panties stretching their nether holes. It was a pretty average day for springtime in Europe. Inside the church, Arielle let lose a groaning exhale again as her mother fidgeted with the straps on her heavily boned corset. The older woman was trying to assist the auto-ratchet as it mercilessly tightened the Kevlar cables to compress her daughter’s torso from just under her impressive 34H bust line to the swell of her full hips. The pair had been at it for almost half an hour to fit Arielle into her wedding corset. The goal was to produce an extremely feminine looking brunette with an exaggerated hourglass figure – not that Arielle wasn’t a beautiful woman even without the compression of the corset. At 29, Arielle was a stunner even by modern standards. With perky H cup tits, a trim waist, shapely hips and a full, muscular butt from years of volley ball and aerobics, she had always fought off the woman and had little problem attracting the ever-dwindling pool of men. Arielle considered herself a healthy, heterosexual woman – although she had certainly eaten her fair share of pussy in her lifetime – and had always actively pursued men as opposed to women. Winning Brad over to the idea of marriage was the result of years of work on her part. She couldn’t wait for the ceremony to be over before Brad decided he’d rather be single and ran off. She knew that was just the pre-wedding jitters speaking. Her fiancée wasn’t likely going anywhere. “Okay, baby,” Camille, her mother, cooed as she allowed her daughter a few seconds of respite. “One more and I think you’re set!” Arielle nodded and tried to breath. The constriction was too tight for normal breathing. Her upper chest and naked tits moved up and down with each labored breath instead of in and out as nature had originally designed. She looked at herself in the mirrored wall across from her. Arielle stood holding onto a chest-high bar with a death-grip to maintain her balance. The busty brunette had to admit the corset had achieved the desired results. Her normally trim waist was extremely constricted and it accentuated her large tits and wide hips. The white, cup-less, lacey, leather corset put her naked tits on full display and her ever-hard, barbell-pierced nipples looked like they could cut glass. The corset ended just at the swell of her hips a few inches above her naked, shaved pussy. The small, crimson rose that adorned the end of the painfully thick catheter locked into her urethra did nothing to hide her moist, puffy cunt lips. White garters ran from the base of the corset to hold up white stockings, which ran down to her white, 6” stiletto heels. Her brunette hair was done up professionally. Her white veil was pulled up, and it trailed halfway down her back. Although, she wore no makeup yet – that would come last. And that was basically what she planned to be married in. Some brides preferred corsets with quarter-cups to help push up their womanly assets even more, but Arielle had chosen to go completely cup-less. Walking down the aisle with tits, ass and pussy exposed was the custom in France these days – well, across all of Europe to be more general. Although, she knew over the Atlantic in America, brides still wore dresses – if you could believe that! They were sexy, revealing dresses that barely hid all the fun parts, but dresses none the less. Although – looking at her basic nakedness in the mirror – she could see the appeal of leaving at least a little bit to the imagination. Not that France was on the cutting edge of cultural liberalness. The customs in some neighboring countries were still a bit taboo even for France. For example, Germany had long since had a love affair with DBSM. It had become the tradition for bridal parties in that country to be gagged and hooded for the wedding and the reception. A few months ago, Arielle had been a bridesmaid for a university friend of hers over in Hesse. Her parents were very strict bondage enthusiasts and the wedding had been planned accordingly. The entire bridal party had spent the better part of 12 hours with long dildo gags locked down their throats, heavy discipline hoods tightened onto their heads, their arms pulled up into a reverse prayer and secured with a binder, and their tits constricted at their base by taunt bands. Arielle’s friend had insisted she stay with her as opposed to a hotel. After the ceremony, the friend had left with her new wife and Arielle had gone back home with the friend’s parents. Needless to say, she wasn’t relieved of her bondage for almost 3 full days! Back in the church, her mother continued to fidget with the corset’s straps behind her, preparing for the final attempt. Looking from side to side, Arielle saw her 6 bridesmaids holding onto their own bars as their mothers worked the straps on their own corsets. Each bridesmaid was dressed nearly identical to the bride herself, but in dark pink corsets, stockings, stiletto heels, and white roses adorning their thick catheters – and no veil, or course. “Here we go,” announced Camille without warning. Arielle exhaled and groaned again as the auto-ratchet found another fraction of an inch of slack from somewhere. After 30 seconds or so, she announced happily, “I think you’re good to go, baby!” secured the corset’s cables, and removed the auto-ratchet. Arielle was dizzy and just stood there adjusting to the constriction and the labored act of breathing. Looking from side to side, her bridesmaids were also finishing up with their corset fitting. All 7 busty young women just stood there and looked at each other in the mirrored wall. 7 pairs of naked breasts rose and fell as they relearned how to breath. “Okay, girls,” Camille announced happily. “Let’s get you fitted with dildos, cleaned up, and then headed over to makeup. Then we can get this wedding started! Magic Time is in 52 minutes, girls!” All 7 young women turned and gingerly walked back to the 7 waiting fitting machines. Each machine looked like something out of a gym – or maybe a doctor’s office. Arielle took a seat in the one assigned to her. As she did, she tried not to whimper as she saw the 5.25” wide, 23” long, roughly studded, heavy-grade torture dildo affixed to the machine’s hard-point. That dildo was equal to her current maximum capacity. She had been wearing an equally sized, lightly veined dildo for almost 36 hours prior to corset fitting to ensure she was completely dilated. Her 6 bridesmaids had done the same. The lightly veined dildo had only been removed long enough to compress her waist to its current dimensions. Had she worn the dildo while fitting, there was no way her waist could have physically been constricted to the degree that it had been – auto-ratchet or no. There wasn’t enough internal room in her body. With Arielle sitting, the tip of the horrible dildo was only half an inch from the entrance to her still gaping nether hole. Her mother quickly picked up one leg and then the other and fitted her knees and ankles into the machine’s brackets and strapped them in. Stepping to the side, she pressed a button on the control panel and Arielle’s legs separated until they were widely and painfully spread. Looking in the mirrored wall, she could see all 6 of her bridesmaids in an identical position as their mothers worked. Finally, her mother brought padded braces over her shoulders and tightened them down until her butt cheeks pressed firmly into the machine’s seat. Stepping in front of her daughter, Camille said quietly, “Here we go, baby. Try and relax.” She gave Arielle a long deep kiss for several seconds before pushing the Execute button. Immediately, her seat lowered on a hydraulic cushion until her sphincter met the rough torture dildo. Arielle leaned her head back and groaned as her own body weight forced the horrible faux-cock about into her protesting body. She heard matching groans of painful discomfort all around her. The texture on the torture dildos were designed to pull and tear into a woman’s tender innards without doing any actual physical harm – but fuck did they hurt! Her body weight pulled her about 6” down onto the dildo, but no farther. She should have kept sinking down onto the dildo except the tip was now pressing against her insides which were forcefully compressed by her corset. There was literally no room inside Arielle for the dildo to advance any farther. The fitting machine sensed her lack of progress and entered the next stage of the fitting process. Above the shoulder braces, a pair of 50lbs weights raised up a foot or so and then slammed down. Arielle screamed in pain as the 5.25” wide head to the torture dildo smashed into her unsuspecting. The dildo was thrust downwards about an inch before it bottomed out. This allowed Arielle to build up a little bit of momentum and another inch or so of thick, painful dildo ground inside her. Arielle’s cry of shock and pain was quickly echoed 6 more times by her bridesmaids. The horrible dildo began to slowly rotate back and forth to aid insertion as the seat slowly raised itself up about 1.75”. This allowed the dildo to return to its original position and then extract the dildo .75” back outside of Arielle’s body. Her poor sphincter was drug along with the rough dildo as it exited her body. Then the weights raised and slammed down again. The cycle was a net gain of about .25” every time the weights fell. Arielle and her bridesmaids were literally being hammered down onto horribly thick torture dildos while their mothers watched and idly chatted. There was plainly no room in her abdomen for a dildo half the size of the one currently being hammered inside her. Her corset was just too tight. To prove the seemingly infeasible task actually feasible, the machine had to use a shocking amount of force to fully insert a dildo that size. And force it did. For nearly 10 minutes, Arielle and her bridesmaids were pounded downwards until their screaming sphincters finally met the bases of their torture dildos. Even though each woman had been pre-dilated to the same width of latex monster piercing their rectums, inserting those dildos despite the pressure from their corsets was a harrowing experience. All the while, the torture dildos continued to slowly twist from side to side and tear into their delicate rectal tissues. Finally, the hammering stopped. Arielle just sat there in her seat and sobbed in pain. Tears and snot were running down her face and falling onto her tits. Her mother reach beneath her, grabbed the three thick leather straps dangling from the base of her corset, and attached each to the torture dildo dilating her daughter – one up the crack of her ass and one on either side of her pubic mound. After pulling them as tight as she could and locking three pad locks in place, she stood up and began cleaning up the sobbing brunette with wet wipes. “Now, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Camille asked with genuine concern. After all, so many of Arielle’s friends were getting married these days. This was the third wedding in the last year that the young woman had been in the wedding party of. At this point, all this should be fairly routine by now. With her daughter presentable, she unstrapped Arielle’s legs and helped her to stand on wobbly legs. “Now no more crying, young lady! Let’s not mess up your makeup,” she added as she guided the busty bride over to the waiting vanity. Arielle didn’t move very fast. She could hardly breath and the terrible pain in her abdomen and bottom was making her want to curl over and waddle. Arielle was able to compose herself as her makeup was applied. Despite the horrible pain emanating from her entire rectal tract – and especially her tortured anus – she was able to smile convincingly. A makeup artist applied light color to her face as her mother added expensive jewelry to her look. Dangly pearl earrings, a long gold necklace that dipped deep into her cleavage, and painfully strong nipple clamps with a silver chain connecting them completed her ensemble. “5 minutes! Places everyone!” came a cry from behind them. Everyone quickly applied the last touches to their makeup and moved as best as they could to their places. The bride and bridesmaids did their best to walk upright and elegant despite their condition. All the guests were seated and waiting, and music was already flowing out into the hallway. Arielle and her bridesmaids took their positions as her mother brought the veil down over her face. The thin, transparent material was just long enough to cover her nipples – not that it managed to hide everything. A bouquet of red roses was handed to at last. She held it as waist level to not block any view of her body. Finally, Arielle was ready to get married. Down the length of the aisle, past friends and family, she could see Brad looking longingly at his bride. Her father stepped up beside her, kissed her deeply for several long seconds, and said happily as he tweaked her clamped nipple, “You look beautiful, honey.” “Thanks, daddy!” Arielle replied happily. She was still trying to forget about the horrible pain inside her, but she knew from experience that it was not going anywhere. She would have to endure through the entire wedding ceremony and reception. The pressure would only increase as her bladder filled. As was tradition, the keys to her catheter and dildo straps had already been sent on ahead to their hotel room. Arielle knew that it was going to be well into tomorrow morning before the objects violating her holes were removed – and then only after she’s fulfilled her wifely duties for Brad. She just hoped he wasn’t too drunk and didn’t fall asleep afterwards he came but before he released her. That happened to quite a few of her friends. “Starting on your left foot,” came a helpful voice to her side. She was glad for it, as she had almost missed her cue. As her father escorted her down the aisle, she tried to grin and wave politely at her guests as the heavy-grade torture dildo locked deeply into her rectum tore into her tender innards with each step. Arielle was happy, but it was going to be a long day!

"Analia Islands"? That sounds promising! Tell us more... I haven't had a chance to read the stories yet. I'll comment on them later.

I was wondering if anyone would catch that! I do have several stories that are in various stages of completion that are missing parts right in the middle. This story is no exception. I need to write one or two parts that logically come next and then I can post the next half a dozen parts that I've already written.

To be honest, I never really thought about it. Although, I've always found the idea of a dominant masochist to be a compelling character type. These types of characters are almost always central to my stories: Laura in the original series; Penelope in the story; and a couple others that I haven't released yet. Taking this story as an example: almost every female character in the story is a switch to some degree. The nurses obviously derive great pleasure from dominating their female patients, and then turn right around and willingly submit themselves to the same treatments. Certainly, the idea of institutionalized anal debauchery is a fun topic to write about too! I guess the order in my stories just kind of comes about organically. In real life I'm a perfectionist by nature and an engineer by trade. So a well ordered world is my ideal in fantasy as well as reality.

5. Penélope’s Office “You wanted to see me, Doctor?” Patricia asked as she entered Penélope’s luxuriously appointed office. Penélope paused the video she had been watching just as it was getting to her favorite part. Evidently, Kaylee and her boyfriend, Kyle, were avid home video posters to free porn sites. They didn’t use their real names of course, but the extensive online profiling done to all new clients and employees had tracked down the activity through a web of email addresses and [illegal] hacked browser history. On screen, the young Kaylee was laying on her back on a bed with her ankles and wrists strapped together and then to the sides of the bed. This position held the young woman in a wide splits with her ass pointing straight up into the air with the help of a cushion. Kyle had just finished depositing his second load of cum into her slightly gaping anus and was busy feeding his softening cock down her throat to clean any residual ass juices off. The young man had a decently sized dick, but next to Penélope’s husband he was tiny. Kyle had just picked up their ingenious rubber tube to feed up Kaylee’s glistening asshole for her to vacuum clean when the buxom, redheaded nurse came into her office. “I did. Have you had much interaction with our new nurse, Kaylee?” Penélope asked, trying to turn her full attention to her employee and gesturing to one of the expensive chairs in front of her desk. She knew her nipples were rock hard with excitement and obvious through the thin latex of her purple dress. “I’ve worked with her a bit. She seems smart and competent; and she hasn’t been scared off yet,” Patricia added with a smirk. “Good. I think she’s ready to learn how to affix patients to the treatment frames. Can you bring her with you when your prep your next patient?” “Of course, Doctor,” Patricia replied. “Is she cleared for upstairs yet?” Penélope thought for a moment before responding. Obviously, Kaylee was no stranger to kinky sex acts, so a quicker introduction to the Spa’s activities would probably be okay. “That should be okay; but nothing above the 5th floor for now. We might familiarize her with the 6th or 7th floors in the next couple of weeks depending on how today goes; but above that Kaylee has a few more months of training and familiarization to go through.” “Sounds good. I’ll have her observe me prep my next patient and then I’ll let her do the one after that and I’ll supervise.” “Perfect!” Penélope agreed. “Will that be all, Doctor?” the cute redhead asked as she stood to leave. “Yes, that is all,” she replied. “Oh, and can you close my door on your way out please? Thank you.” Patricia nodded and left, closing the door behind her. Damn! thought Penélope as she watched Patricia’s ass sway from side to side as the young nurse left. How she’s single with tits like that?!? Penélope shook her head in incomprehension before returning her attention to the monitor and starting the video again. It didn’t take long for wet slurping sounds to softly start coming out her speakers as on-screen Kaylee sucked her rectum clean of cum and lubrication. She made a mental note to bring this video to Antonio’s attention. He’d get a kick out of it. “You may resume, Jill,” Penélope said to the empty room. Except it wasn’t empty. Underneath the desk, her secretary resumed her dictation. Penélope had a special desk chair whose seat split in two and the halves rotated backwards. The effect was similar to a gynecological chair. With her latex dressed pulled up to her hips, her secretary had full access to her holes yet was completely hidden from anyone who wasn’t behind the desk. Immediately, the lips that had been locked onto Penélope’s clit resumed sucking – hard. The fist in her drenched cunt began rotating from side to side and the arm buried up her loose backside began slowly moving in and out from wrist to elbow once again. Onscreen, Kyle was urinating into Kaylee’s gaping asshole as the young blonde continued to suck out all the liquid sloshing around in her butt. Finishing his business, Kyle gave his girlfriend a few minutes to finish her sucking while he stroked his cock back to firmness. Soon, he was laying atop the bound woman pounding his dick into her asshole and working up to his third orgasm as Kaylee cried out and encouraged him to fuck her asshole harder. After a couple minutes, the hot Latina commanded politely, “I’m ready to cum now, if you please,” as she watched Kaylee’s onscreen debauchery continue. In the video, Kyle was really giving it to the restrained Kaylee and pounding his nicely sized cock into the young blonde’s nether hole with long, powerful strokes. The young blonde was groaning loudly; obviously about ready to cum hard. The camera angle showed a nice close-up of Kyle’s dick as it slammed balls deep into Kaylee’s perfectly sculpted ass. Obediently, the fist up her cunt slipped out with a soft slurping noise and joined the other fist up Penélope’s back hole causing the older woman to groan. Jill’s fists and arms then began to speed up faster and faster. On each downward stroke, her closed fist would pop out of her boss’s useless sphincter only to reverse direction and slam right back in up to her elbow. Penélope moaned in approval. Her fingers began tweaking her painfully hard nipples through her dress as she felt her orgasm building. It felt like it was going to be a big one. It was. The Brazilian doctor cried out loudly and shook violently as her orgasm crashed let her. It took Penélope a few minutes to fully recover from that one. “Thank you, Jill. You can re-plug me and clean up.” “Of course, Doctor,” came her secretary’s voice from underneath her desk. Penélope felt the woman’s hands and arms exit her sore asshole at last. Seconds later, the 3.75” x 19.00” dildo Antonio had selected for her before they’d left for work that morning slipped easily past her perpetually aching sphincter and buried itself to the hilt. The dildo was thick enough that if not for her corset, it’s outline against her stomach muscles would have been obvious. Penélope felt Jill lock the dildo in place with the specially designed strap that came standard on all her garter belts. After that, she crawled out from under the desk while wiping her arms dry with a towel from the stack that was kept under there for this specific purpose. “Will there be anything else, Doctor?” Jill asked helpfully. “Not at this time, thank you,” Penélope replied as she brought her legs together again and pulled up some financial software up on her screen. “Oh wait! Do you have those utility bills you thought were wrong for me to look over?” The amount of power the Spa consumed monthly never ceased to awe her. Although, it shouldn’t really come as that much of a surprise considering how much industrial-level equipment resided in the upper levels. “At my desk, Doctor. I’ll be right back,” and she swayed out the door. Back to the grind, thought Penélope as she scanned through lines of amounts on screen.

This should be in the General Discussion forum, not the Stories forum. If you wanted to write a story about your experience, you'd be in the right place; but it doesn't sound like that's your intention.

Tit torture? Check. Anal Dilation? Check. Urethral dilation? Check. Heavy BDSM? Check. Lesbian? Check. Lord Odie Approved

That's the fun part about this story. I really haven't spent more than an hour in any one sitting on it. It's more of a running fantasy that I throw together as I go.

Part 4 “Always nice to see a familiar face, isn’t it?” Patricia asked as she keyed in her PIN on the elevator’s access panel and they waited for the next one heading up. Hazel didn’t reply. Patricia only smiled knowingly. A few seconds later the up arrow illuminated and the panel dinged. The busty redheaded nurse pushed the gurney into the spacious elevator, pressed her thumb against the biometric scanner, and hit the button for the 5th floor. It only took a few seconds to reach their destination and the door opened again into a wide hallway. The muffled sounds of pleasure and pain could be heard reverberating off the walls. The multitude of voices meshed together into an ambient, low-level din of noise. Pulling Hazel out of the elevator, Patricia move the gurney off to the side of the hallway into a small alcove. Stepping to the side, she rolled the blanket down onto her patient’s legs; or what only looked like her legs. The rubber-foam prosthetic legs that extended from her hips were for appearance purposes only to be discrete on the 1st floor. Hazel’s actual legs had been pulled up and over her body and had been bound to the treatment frame next to her shoulders. The padded braces over her shoulders and thighs still kept her upper and lower torso pulled backwards firmly against the frame and the padding at her middle torso arched her back up to thrust her stomach and 36F breasts out beautifully – breasts that were still tightly constricted at their bases with the ratchet straps. Next, Patricia removed the large, fluffy pillow that covered up Hazel’s feet and ankles leaving the bound raven-haired woman naked except for her restraints, catheter and nipple clamps. Now that the gurney was free of the blanket, Hazels bound arms were finally in view. Her arms exited the bottom of the fame through a hole in the gurney. A leather arm binder was tightly laced up to her armpits and forced her elbows together. The end of the binder was attached to a winch mounted on the base of the gurney and her arms had been pulled down and backwards until they rested at nearly a 90-degree angle from the line of her body in a severe strappado that took away most of Hazel’s breath. Finally, Patricia disconnected the bottom half of the gurney from the top half and the whole thing came apart in two pieces. She pushed the unneeded bottom half with the prosthetic legs, blanket and pillow off to the side with half a dozen others and pulled Hazel back out into the hallway. Now free of the prosthetic, the base of the sizeable 4.25” x 20.00” semi-rough dildo was clearly visible between the bound patient’s widely spread butt cheeks. Attached to the base was a powerful vibration unit set to medium. Patricia knew Hazel could feel the strong, reverberating pulses deep inside her body and wasn’t really aware of her surroundings. The dark-haired woman’s soaking wet and slightly agape cunt was dripping juices down onto the base of the wide dildo piercing her rectum. Smiling happily, Patricia pushed Hazel down the long hallway. She took her time as both sides of the hallway were lined with large windows into the various treatment rooms and she liked watching. Reaching the third set of glass double doors on the left labeled, “510 – Penetration Therapy Room 3”, she pushed Hazel through them. Immediately, the hallway was filled with unmuffled cries of anguish and ecstasy from the dozen or so women already undergoing treatment in the large chamber. Seconds later, the doors closed behind the pair and the hallway was once again mostly quiet except for the small amount of noise that escaped the thick glass. A few minutes later, the doors opened again as Patricia exited by herself, pushing a now empty gurney. She paused after a few feet to peer into the window as the chamber’s attending nurse made the last few adjustments on Hazel and started the penetration machine before returning to her monitoring station. Patricia couldn’t be sure, but she swore she could hear Hazel’s cries of pain over that of her fellow patrons as the violent fucking began. She knew that wouldn’t last too long before the pleasure set in. Smiling to herself again, Patricia forced herself to tear her eyes off the suffering raven-haired beauty and turned to head back down stairs. More women were waiting for their treatments and she needed to get her next assignment. She parked her half-gurney in another alcove set aside for them off the side of the hallway and keyed the elevator down. She really needed some release herself she decided. Thankfully, she was off tomorrow and could take advantage of one of the physical perks for working at the Spa. As she waited for the elevator to arrive, Patricia bent down and pulled the hem of her white latex dress up until it rode up on her hips and revealed a black control unit Velcroed to her upper thigh with a tube and a power cord snaking their way up and underneath her dress. She released the Velcro and moved the unit up a few inches before re-securing the control unit. She was on the nurse’s waiting list for Spa treatments after her shift and wanted to be ready if there was a free spot for an all-nighter. Spa treatments were free for off-duty nurses, but they were on a first come, first server basis; and paying patients always took priority. The Spa was a business after all. Patricia was smoothing out her dress once again just as the elevator arrived and opened. “Heya, Heather,” Patricia said happily as she recognized her identical twin sister, roommate and fellow nurse pushing a blonde patient out of the elevator on a gurney. “If you’re headed to 510, they’re over booked and full right now,” she added as she scanned her doppelganger up and down. Damn! She looked hot! “What? Again!” complained the mirror-like newcomer as she moved her patient off to the side and pulled off the blanket to reveal a 30-something woman bound near identically to Hazel. “I swear, we need to fire the girl who schedules rooms; she’s always fucking it up.” “I know, right?” Patricia giggled as she stepped into the elevator. “I hope one of the other rooms have open space. “You’re going to be home tonight, right?” Heather inquired as she separated the gurney. “I thought I heard you mention you were going to be bored tonight. I checked myself into the Spa after my shift this afternoon; and I was hoping you could go on my date with Jeremy tonight for me,” she asked pleasantly. “What? Shit! I’m still on the waiting list!” Patricia replied angrily as she pulled up the hem of her dress to let her roommate see the bottom of the control unit hidden under her clothes. “I was hoping to get an open spot for an all-night therapy session, and then see you some time tomorrow morning.” “Crap,” Heather said, pulling up her own dress to reveal an identical control unit strapped to her leg before smoothing her clothing out again. She smiled back at Patricia and added, “Why didn’t you sign up first thing this morning?” “I was still considering my options,” Patricia said as held the elevator door open. “Well, can you go on a date with Jeremy for me please? You know he can’t tell us apart.” “I don’t know,” Patricia said as she considered. “The last time I went on a date with him for you, we ended up having sex doggie-style with his whole hand up my asshole as he jerked his cock off while it was in my pussy. That felt so weird!” “Yeah, that is one of his favorite things to do to me too,” Heather replied wistfully. “So, you’ll do it then?” Patricia thought for a moment before answering, “Yeah, I’ll do it; but you owe me!” She should probably go have the control unit removed so she could tighten back up in time, she thought to herself. “Put it on my tab, please,” Heather giggled in response. The roommates laughed briefly as the elevator doors closed.

Part 3 Kaylee finished up connecting Summer’s expandable plug and catheter to the control box strapped to her upper thigh. Behind her, Beth was straightening out her skirt in preparation for returning to the waiting lounge to stretch. “There we go,” she commented as she stood up and allowed Summer’s legs to come together at last. “How does that feel?” “I really don’t like this catheter thing!” Summer complained. “I really need to take a piss!” “You’ll get used to it, baby,” her mother replied contentedly. “It’s all part of the treatment process, and besides, you’re only filled with about 900cc. That should be easy even for a novice such as yourself. How much is inflating my bladder, Kaylee?” Beth asked the cute nurse. “Oh, um… 1750cc, ma’am,” Kaylee replied. “See? Quit your complaining, baby.” Both Beth and Kaylee had to help Summer step back into her skirt as she was unused to the painful sensation of bladder inflation. Once both women were presentable, Kaylee escorted them back out into the hallway. The trio chatted idly as they walked, but had to step to the side as the door to pre-treatment room 132-B opened and Patricia rolled out a raven-haired woman on a gurney and started making her way towards the elevators. The client looked peaceful and relaxed as she lay there face up. A warm, extra-thick, fleece blanket covered her from neck to toe and almost reached to floor. The blanket was rolled over on itself for a few feet over her breasts and abdomen. A large, fluffy pillow was under her head and propped it up at a 45-degree angle. She looked like a normal person laying on a gurney, but some of the angles just weren’t quite right. Kaylee had never been able to quite put her finger on what was wrong. She guessed she’d eventually know soon enough when she competed the next part of her training. “Hazel Benedict!” Beth said happily to the prone woman. “Nice to see you’re getting some relaxing treatments today!” The reclining woman looked at the speaker for a few seconds without comprehending before replying, “Oh, hello Beth. Yup, they have me for an extended double treatment today so I’ll be here for a few hours.” “Well, I won’t keep you then,” Beth said happily. “Have fun!” “You too,” came Hazel’s relaxed reply. Summer had also picked up on something being not quite right, but chose to say nothing. Hazel looked almost pregnant and the angles were all off for a blanket covering a female body. However, she had really been too busy starting at the redheaded nurse’s massive rack anyway. She’d seen breasts that large before, but never spilling out the top of a latex dress the way this nurse was. “This way,” Kaylee said as she prodded her charges into motion again. Once back in the waiting lounge, Kaylee smiled to the mother and daughter as they found seats in the slowly emptying room. Most of the day’s clients were already processed and undergoing their treatments upstairs and the waiting room was only about half as full as it was an hour ago. In another hour, it would be empty for the day and the 1st floor’s activities would quite down until later in the afternoon and on into the evening and early morning as treatments ended and patients were released. Kaylee figured she’d have one, maybe two more cleanings to do for the day and then she’d be off and could go home and furiously masturbate. God! All these stretched out assholes that she had to look at everyday were really starting to get to her! Having to maintain her professional composure when all she wanted to do was bury her tongue in them was infuriating! She’d always been anally inclined, but her new found sex overdrive was really getting intense. Not that her boyfriend, Kyle, minded. He was getting more anal sex than he ever had in his life. Kaylee absolutely demanded to have his dick in her butt three or four times a day. She couldn’t wait until later this evening when Kyle would get home. Then she could get her wrists and ankles tied to their headboard and he could deposit a few loads of cum deep into her horny asshole after some very rough pounding. Of course, Kyle had his own kinks. He wouldn’t untie Kaylee until she’d sucked her bottom clean with a rubber tube they kept in their nightstand just for that purpose. Until he got home however, it was up to Kaylee and her quickly growing dildo collection to sate her desires. Her collection had been growing lately in both number and size. The last two dildos she’d purchased she had to keep hidden from Kyle as they were considerably larger than his dick was. She doubted he would approve since he preferred her nether hole to be nice and tight. So far, she only been able to get the first of her two new dildos up her bottom to the base, but she’d only managed to get the head of the second in. Tonight, it was her goal to bury her largest toy up her butt until she’d cum no less than three times. Kaylee shook herself. She was daydreaming; or perhaps day-fantasizing was a better term. As she turned to head back to the nurse’s station for her next assignment, she saw Brooke sitting there looking at her intently. Kaylee had the distinct impression that the older brunette could read her mind and had just witnessed what her plans were for this evening. Not that Kaylee minded much. She would have been perfectly happy inviting the hot brunette home with her if the Spa’s rules had allowed her to make the offer. Girls were just as good as boys as far as she was concerned. Both smiled at one another politely before Kaylee turned and walked down the hallway. A second later, Brooke caught her breath as the plug in her asshole expanded again. It was growing quickly today. No doubt, she was still loose back there from her energetic lovemaking last night with Mindy. She’d spent almost two hours with her ankles on her lover’s shoulders as Mindy pounded one dildo into her loose asshole after another. Each one longer and thicker than the last. Mindy had only stopped once they’d exhausted their entire toy collection. The coming weekend should be interesting, Brooke thought to herself, as they were going toy shopping for some larger dildos. It wouldn’t be long now, Brooke contemplated. She was trying to pay attention to the gossip magazine she was reading, but she just didn’t really care about that right now. She wanted to be upstairs undergoing a treatment now, not later. Sighing, she put down the magazine and closed her eyes to concentrate on relaxing her sphincter. She was rewarded a few seconds later as the expanding plug in her ass grew larger yet again.

I think we can all agree this manga would have been much better if the robots were powered by painful anal orgasms. Unfortunately, I am no artist.

I snorted out loud at this!

And it's so hard to have the keyboard in my lap with a boner too...

I feel this manga is appropriate to this story. Although, wrong hole, but still... https://e-hentai.org/g/1030894/15c93dd0aa/

Oh, Eternal Overlord Musk the Great (First of His Name) colonized the Red Planet in the mid 20th century and gave Earth the proverbial middle finger. Shortly after which, he discovered the secret to immortality and built an opulent, sprawling, underground palace in the planet's only active volcano. He now rules over planet Musk -- formerly Mars -- with an iron fist and plots his eventual return and conquest of Earth. Skirmishes between the UTSF and the Muskian Navay are commonplace as both reach out to asteroid belt to plunder its vast resources.

I have no idea where I'll take the story from here. I initially wrote Days of Future's Future as a one-off and ended up writing three parts -- so far. So who knows. The Mighty Mo's actual name is the UTSF Exxon Mobil. I figure we name arenas, race tracks and coliseums after companies now. In the future, might as well name naval ships after large political donors.

I wouldn't mind -- and I'm sure rbbc wouldn't mind either -- if someone wanted to tap out a quick story or two on these ideas.

I like all these ideas! This could be just another reason why men are physically incapable of qualifying for extended duration deep space EVA operations. I imagine that generations of breast suspension and general tit abuse have conditioned the female breasts to endure significant punishment. Near-zero pressure wouldn't be all that much more of a strain. I haven't really thought much more about making Days of Future's Future canon yet -- though I probably will. It's just too much fun to write about.

LOL! Maybe I'll go back and edit something in. I just typed that out quickly for fun and posted it.

Anal Etiquette: 2201: An Anal Odyssey By: Lord Odie Disclaimer: The following is a work of pure sexual fantasy and is intended for adult audiences ONLY. If you are under the age of 18, please stop reading NOW and go tell your parent and/or guardian that you need stricter internet supervision. Any physical resemblance to a real person that any fictional character herein may bear is probably intentional and is meant as a compliment. Furthermore, all fictional characters in the following fantasy are professionals and good at what they do. So please, don’t try this at home; if such things were even physically possible. If you still insist on trying this at home, please send all pictures and feedback about the experience to myself at: lordodietheauthor@gmail.com. If I can’t stop you I can at least make sure you’re doing it right. Consider yourself disclaimed. Foreword This story is based on ideas put forth by rbbc on RoseButtBoard, and a documentary I saw a few years ago about next generation space suits currently under development. The basic premise is how the Anal Etiquette culture would fair in zero-G space. So fast forward a hundred years or so past the current timeline, and here we go! The year is 2201, and some things have changed… P.S. I’m undecided as to if the Days of Future’s Future plot arc is canon history in this setting. I’ll have to ponder that… Part 1 Lieutenant (JG) Casey Mc Cavin, United Terran Space Force followed her younger copilot, Ensign Jeremy Stuller, through the hatch to their shuttle’s cramped cockpit. Their stubby craft was an older Dragonfly-E3 class maintenance shuttle. The Dragonflies were slowly being phased out but there were still a few of them left in Lunar Command’s inventory. Casey was glad to have the old girl as her first command because it could take a direct hit from an asteroid the size of a small auto moving at 11kph and only ding the paint – unlike the new Wasp class shuttles which would disintegrate into a ball nuclear fusion should it be unfortunate enough to encounter the same object. The likely hood of that happening was remote in the extreme, but it was still comforting. Casey had to shake her head in exasperation as Ensign Stuller flopped around clumsily in the zero gravity – his arms and legs wind milling about seeming at random. This is why so few men qualify as pilots, Casey thought to herself; and why fewer still qualified for EVA operations! She kept her comments to herself and tried not to giggle as her male copilot banged his left knee on the NavCom console and then bumped his head on the near-collision radar display as he ricocheted from the first impact. He cursed out loud and finally steadied himself, floated into his command seat, and started buckling and tightening his 5-point shock harness. Frack! she thought to herself, with all Wanderman’s flailing around, it was a good thing that maintenance shuttles weren’t armed! She’d hate to have to explain to Captain Kelly Wanderman – commander of UTSFS Exxon Mobil – why her shiny new shuttle bay had mysteriously materialized a pair of 10cm burn holes through the outer hull. Casey shuddered at the mere thought of the pitiless gaze of The Old Lady as she wrote up the newly minted Ensign Mc Gavin’s formal reprimand paper work and consigned the young officer to 90 days in the Mighty Mo’s extensive torture brig. She’d witnessed how much Master Chief Petty Officer Bianca von Kraus loved her job as the ship’s chief disciplinarian and head mistress. Master Chief was actually the only member of the Exxon Mobil’s 1800-member crew who could send The Old Lady herself to the brig – which only happened once a week or so when the Captain was getting a little too stressed from her demanding job. The Human race’s gender imbalance had worsened over the last century to the point that now only 1 in 10 people were male. However, due to exacting qualification requirements of the UTSF, only about 1 in 100 service personnel were male. Which made Ensign Stuller one of only 8 men assigned to the Mighty Moe. Needless to say, while he was assigned his own private quarters like the Captain and Master Chief, he never had to sleep alone – unlike all the other personnel who shared quarters with 3 to 15 other spacers – depending on rank. Casey herself shared cramped quarters with 3 other lieutenants. Speaking of torture brigs, Casey never quite understood the need for such cavernous bays that could otherwise be put to a more practical use. She understood the need for heavy doses of Masomaxicin and Voluptumax in the food and water supply for civilian populations, but she never understood the military necessity for a naval ship’s crew while it was underway. It seemed horribly impractical to the young lieutenant for naval architects to have to design ships with torture brigs capable of incarcerating a third of a ships normal crew. Normally, a ship’s brig contained roughly a quarter of any ship’s crew at any given time, but the need to throw more women in the torture brig at any time necessitated the extra capacity. Casey assumed no one had asked her lengthy and learned opinion on the matter because of a failure of military intelligence – or The Brass just didn’t give two fracks about what some random lieutenant (JG) thought anyway. It was more likely the latter. Now that the Ensign was done tumbling clumsily about, Casey could enter the cramped cockpit without fear of getting accidentally backhanded – not that she would have minded it overly much. The lieutenant floated gracefully through the hatch, past all the shuttle’s displays and controls, and expertly into her command seat without coming within 25cm of anything hard, pointy or ouchie. She looked over at Stuller and blew him a mischievous kiss. He only groaned in annoyance at her grace and maneuverability. The reason for Mc Cavin’s grace and Stuller’s awkwardness was simple: while he had all four limbs to worry about, Casey’s legs were bound behind her shoulders. And not just simply bound; female space suits were designed in such a way that having one’s legs behind one’s shoulders was the only way to fit into them. There was simply no other way to wear one! This kept the body’s center of balance centered high on the torso and made it significantly easier to get around in zero gravity. There were also less moving parts to bang into things. Women were used to being bound like this for sustained periods of time since they became of age and the strain on their joints barely registered. Men, on the other hand, were nowhere near agile enough for the position. It seemed that nearly 2 centuries of culturally instituted extreme BDSM had trained women’s bodies perfectly for space! Unlike the ancient space suits of the 20th Century, 22nd Century suits more closely resembled thin wet suits from the same era. They weren’t pressurized either. They relied on the inwards pressure of strong, nano-fabric to hold the human body together and protect it from the void of space. Modern space suits were basically like whole-body corsets that kept the body from expanding and deteriorating. Only the soft plastic helmet that attached to the neck was pressurized with air. Centuries of wearing strict corsets and heavy bondage had also helped in preparing women better for the rigors of space travel than men. Men were just uncomfortable with the feeling of corset-like clothing. They hadn’t had generations to adjust to the garments as common, everyday wear. Female space suits also had one more interesting design feature: the breasts were deemed as less necessary to be pressurized at the rest of the body, and so the skin-tight material over her healthy 34H breasts were considerably thinner than the material over the rest of her body. In a few minutes, when the cabin was depressurized for flight, they would quickly grow 2 cup sizes as the vacuum of space pulled at them. To protect the rest of the body from the expansion, the base of each tit was tightly compressed by a thick band of nano-fiber. The result was that Casey looked like she had 342 F-cup-sized orbs of tit-flesh protruding from her otherwise sleek torso. All these factors combined together to make Lieutenant Mc Cavin a graceful swan in the weightlessness of space and Ensign Stuller a bungling ox. And this was why 99 out of 100 spacers were women. Casey felt the sizable, 18cm wide, 50cm long realistically textured dildo sealed into her rectum make contact with her command seat’s receptacle and lock securely in place. At the same time, her headrest lowered down between her encased feet and the back of her head and retracted backwards. This pulled her already straining legs into the seat cushion hard enough that she grunted at the uncomfortable stress in her hips as they protested at the unnatural angle. Looking down, the outline of the dildo buried deeply in her rectum was clearly visible through her suit’s thin – yet incredibly tough – material. Finally, she reached to her left and then to her right for the last two shock restraints, connected them to the hardpoints built into the sides of the thick bands at the base of her tits, and allowed the seat to automatically ratchet the straps tight. Casey groaned as her base of her already bulbous tits contracted even further and her breasts orbs were pulled outwards and to the sides painfully. Despite Stuller having a good 30 second head start on Mc Cavin, Casey managed to be fully strapped in before her copilot. She heard another groan of annoyance from the young man as they began to run down the shuttles preflight checklist. Minutes later, the Dragonfly-E3 rumbled alive as her power plant came fully online and the fusion thrusters began warming up. The board was green and preflight was almost finished before Chief Petty Officer Samantha Corbin floated through the hatch to check in with the pilots. “We’re about all strapped in, Lieutenant,” she reported formally, “And the cargo hatch is closed and locked.” Glancing over at the CPO’s massive 36J rack mere inches from her face, she replied, “Thank you, Chief.” Casey checked a few more readouts before hitting the intercom transmit button, “Helmets sealed, ladies. Depressurizing in 5 seconds.” She checked the cargo bay’s video feed as Chief Corbin’s repair detail donned their helmets immediately. All 20 women were strapped into their seats identically to Casey – each woman’s legs secured behind their shoulders and large, spherical breasts riding high on their chests. “Depressurizing,” she announced and hit the button. Immediately, her helmet popped taut as it retained its pressure while the air in the shuttle was sucked out. Casey groaned in moderate pain as her breasts expanded in the vacuum. Glancing to her side, she could see Chief Corbin’s eyes were closed and her mouth open as her normally 36J tit orbs expanded to an impressive at least a 36L cup. Remarkable! If not for the vacuum in the cockpit, Casey was sure she could hear the older petty officer groan in pain. Their mission today was to assess and repair a 800 million ton freight drone full of rare earth metals that had gone mysteriously offline. The drone was bound for Terra’s orbital smelters, and the industrial ring of orbital factories beyond. “Better get locked in, Chief,” Casey commented as she cycled the environmental system and brought up the Exxon Mobile’s small craft net and requested permission to depart. The Chief nodded and disappeared though the hatch she’d come from. Glancing in the cargo bay’s video feed, the now bustier repair team sat and tried to get comfortable. With permission to depart, Casey released the docking clamps and guided the shuttle out of the bay and into the infinite blackness of space. Expertly, she aligned the craft with the first beacon and throttled up the fusion thrusters to 80% power. Immediately, she was slammed into her command seat as 12 gravities of acceleration hurdled the craft forward. For nearly five minutes, the craft accelerated constantly before reaching the ruthlessly enforced speed limit for near Lunar orbit. Only the tightening of her nano-fiber suit kept blood in her skull and prevented her from blacking out under the strain. Regardless, 12Gs was a lot of acceleration and she was grateful to power down the thrusters for the 2-hour flight out to the remote mining station and the disabled freight drone. She toggled the intercom again and announced, “Alright, ladies. We’ve got a 120-minute flight time. The temperature at our destination is a pleasant -240 Celsius and Sol will be behind Luna; so, no need for sunscreen!” She saw a few faces smile in the video feed at her corny joke. It was doubtfully the first time they’d heard it. “Feel free to enjoy yourselves but be ready to deploy in 90 minutes,” Casey added. Deciding to take her own advice, Casey switched off the intercom and set it to the pilot-only channel. “You got this, Jeremy?” “Yes, ma’am,” he replied professionally as her transferred primary control of the shuttle to his station. “Okay, I’m going offline for 90 minutes. The ship is yours, Ensign.” “Aye, ma’am. The ship is mine,” Stuller replied formally. Not that there was a single god damned thing to actually do in the next 90 minutes, but maritime tradition was maritime tradition and someone had to be in command. Keying in commands on the arms of her command seat, Casey brought up the seat’s various pleasure programs. Choosing a particularly vigorous BDSM program, she set the timer for 90 minutes and hit the execute button. The program started and the words, “Please Insert Wrists,” appeared on her helmet’s HUD. Reaching down, she inserted her writs into the pair of loops at the side of her seat. Instantly, her wrists were pulled behind her body into a sever strappado and forced her to exhale from the strain. Before she could catch her breath, the collar of her suit tightened around her neck and began choking her. It wouldn’t actually strangle her, but it was enough to get her adrenalin pumping. At the same time, she felt her large dildo in her rectum come to life. The large slab of latex extracted itself nearly entirely before slamming into her nether hole with shocking force. Casey cried out in pain and pleasure as the speed and force of the dildo picked up. Glancing in the cargo bay’s video feed, all 21 women of Chief Corbin’s team had their arms drawn up behind them. The outlines of 21 large dildos piercing their rectums could be seen moving up and down under their space suits at various speeds and forces. What else was there to do during an otherwise boring flight? As Lieutenant Casey’s first orgasm approached, her eyes shot open as the sound of 22 groaning, crying and orgasming women suddenly exploded in her ears. Evidently, Stuller had opened all the mikes on the shuttle wide intercom. Casey thought about reprimanding him, but their combined symphony of voices was arousing to say the least. And that was enough to push her over the edge into orgasm. It ended up being a routine 11-hour mission. The two-hour flight times in either direction were the most eventful parts of the entire mission.

Although, the 9th level of masochistic heaven -- aka: normal people hell -- would be the 9th floor of treatment at the Spa! So everything works out.

Yeah... I meant to do that...

Centrifugal Anal Dilation Training -- or CAdT for short; pronounced, "cat". Interesting.