I am too poor to refuse. I have no other options left to me. Though it stabs at my pride as if with a jagged-tipped blade, I have no way of resisting her.
I can hear Veronica rubbing her hands with lubricant behind me. The noise is nauseating. Chook, chook, chook, slide, slide, chook. It’s ghastly. Every nerve and muscle in my body is tensed to breaking. My feet are far apart. She has me as she wants me.
Why would she want to do this? Why would anyone? What strange pleasure can she derive from it?
“Here it comes, baby,” she says.
She has never called me this before.
But there is no time to think any more about it. Soon enough I feel the cold, sticky mess of her fingertips slide into the crack of my buttocks, parting them wider the further she penetrates. She is quickly up to her knuckles, and then past them; deeper, deeper still. It is the most bizarre and un-erotic sensation I have ever experienced. I feel like I am being examined.
“Nearly in,” she mutters excitedly. “Keep perfectly still.”
When her hand has squelched up to her wrist, I feel her fingers slowly begin to curl into a ball inside me. I know too little of biology to decide whether this is something that could damage me. But that is what my common sense cautions me.
The tightened elastic of my anal passage is resisting the swelling shape of her fist with everything it has. The squelching is growing ever more disquieting. The sensation is nearly indescribable.
“Good,” she sighs. “That’s great. Can you feel that?”
“Stupid question really,” she laughs pleasantly, as if expecting me to laugh along with her.
There is now a fist inside my anus. It is all the way in. She is trying to force it still higher. Only science can save me now.
I am breaking wind in long loud gusts. This is so undignified.
She fucks me with her hand, pushing and pulling the fist she has made up and down my anal canal.
“Take that, baby. Take it.”
I should have studied harder in school.
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