02:48

Only three hours to go, and four cummings needed. I know that I will have to have them on a streak, or exhaustion will grab me and carry me away forever. Four in a row. I have done it before, here. It was before a lot of other things happened as well, though. The distance now seems unfathomable, like bicycling to Mars. Yet it is the only way.

There is only one trump card I have received here. It hasn’t been played yet, and I would have liked to avoid using it. My situation is ****, though. Four must come, and it will be a heck of a lot of trouble to farm them from my poor morose body. My trump is my only chance to save me. If there is any time to start an anal career, this is certainly it.

I climb onto the table, and mould my body into the right position to take the machine: ass up, face down on the table top. The machine reaches down for me. It seems to be a bit surprised, when I lead the dildo head to come down into my asshole rather than my slit. Then it thrusts down into me, mechanical, procedural, methodical, probing down into my arsehole. I yamper and strimple, if those words would exist. They mean that I get devoured, possessed, taken control of, and that my entire body expresses it. The sensation is incomparable, I wouldn’t even be able to begin describing the vulnerability and dependence of it; let me suffice to say that it thoroughly grabs my pussy in a harsh grip as well.