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|Subject: Re: True Story-Seventh Encounter|
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Date Posted: 17:44:00 12/30/18 Sun
In reply to: Ulysses 's message, "True Story-Introduction" on 19:42:14 08/12/18 Sun
It would take a couple of weeks to get it through my head that the last session with the enema had not been a dream or that anything in the past six months had not been a dream. This whole thing had actually happened. I had done things or rather had things done to me that were even too much for my fantasies. To think that a month ago I wouldn't take a dump in a public restroom, yet I sat on a toilet as brown liquid and crap exploded out of me while some strange woman stared with her arms folded.
The date for our next session was approaching. I kept constant with my far too honest nightly reports as well as having meaningful conversation with Circe. I was growing past the notion of calling it all off and accepting whatever strange, painful, humiliating thing she had in store for me. She had requested, or strongly suggested I wear sweatpants on our next meeting.
Wondering which personality I would encounter I was met with someone very direct holding a dispenser of liquid soap. Almost immediately upon entering the door I was led a few steps, she stood behind me and shoved her hand in the back of my sweats. A suppository poked my anus and a soapy finger slowly pushed it in as deep as her finger would go. Oh, it burned like crazy. She very matter of factly led me to the couch where I spied the hairbrush, vegetable oil, a carrot and jar of suppositories. She yanked my sweats down and guided me over her lap. She was very matter of fact making conversation mixed with lectures on my diet, habits and behavior while rubbing and squeezing my ass and inserting suppositories with a soap soaked finger, I believe four total. After what felt like an hour fingering my ass, my rectum burning with an intense need to go, she started shoving that carrot up my ass. My consolation was that with all the time she had spent ramming my asshole at least I wasn't getting my rear end scorched.
I felt I had to go with some immediacy when Miss Circe's grip tightened on me as slap after slap after slap set fire to my backside. The hairbrush then assaulted my rear in rapid fire until I was bawling like a child. With the burning both outside and in I was practically hoping for an enema to get some relief.
Well, I wasn't really hoping for an enema, but I was led to the bathroom, my sweats had already been left in the living room, directed into the same position as a month ago. Pretty much the exact same scenario as before. I was dead wrong about an enema being a relief.
I'll continue with our next meeting at a later date.
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|Re: True Story-Eighth Encounter||Ulysses||17:51:26 04/14/19 Sun|
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