Lifelong Learning in Perversion

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Eki 20, 2023 // By:analsex // No Comment

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I’m sitting here on the edge of the bed, with this lady whose situation most would say was desperate; totally hopeless, helpless and subjugated. In fact, this lady is my wife Asha and she’s had four orgasms already and I can see another building inside her, judging by her muted sounds and movements of her hips. So there must be degrees of desperate, hopeless, helpless and subjugated; don’t you agree? And I don’t think that’s how she feels about it.

For a moment, let me describe her situation. She has an inflated dildo in her vagina which has been expanded to about 4 inches diameter and it is 8 inches long. It isn’t all inside her but the pressure is clear to see from the stretching of her labia and the erection it’s causing to her clitoris.

In her rectum is a Doc Johnson’s large ace-of-spades butt plug. It’s 3½ inches in diameter, with a one-inch diameter stalk and a wide flat base to prevent it disappearing up her entrails. All I shall say is that she’s totally and utterly stuffed up between her legs and can’t put her knees together.

The most noticeable feature of Asha’s appearance is her waist which is crushed to her anatomical minimum by a tight laced and boned corset of fiendish, ferocious and even malevolent design. It fits beautifully up to her breasts, where her bra would be if she had one on at this moment. And over her bottom, it fits equally perfectly. But at her waist it is designed and made to crush her waist to any proportions I wish. Tonight it is practically closed and her waist is no more than 16 inches round. Quite soon now, I’ll hold that waist and enjoy myself inside her, inside it.

My latest addition to Asha’s situation is protruding from her mouth. Her head is bent backwards and about 2 inches of a 24-inch double-ended dildo is visible. The rest of it is past her teeth, past her vocal cords, past her trachea, down her gullet and is curling round in her stomach. She is impaled on this device although it has some flexibility; and she had difficulty breathing past it. I can see her now struggling to get breath, especially as her orgasm is building nicely.

Excuse me for a moment, while I take it out of her.

++++++++++

Wow. That was amazing. I took hold of the protruding end and pulled gently, but it seemed to be stuck. With a little more force, it started to move and she arched her back as it snaked out of her body; the full length of her torso from the bottom of her stomach until it emerged in her throat and past her back teeth. At that point she called out in an orgasmic frenzy, and her whole body shook. Well, she shook as much as she could, all trussed up in a tight laced corset with 44 steel bones and a tightened 5 metre lace at the back. To be honest she couldn’t move at all but that’s what Asha likes and she was ecstatic by the time she could take a deeper breath. I leaned over her and she clung to me as her thrill subsided.

“Thank you,” she said softly and then closed her eyes to relish the moment, I suppose.

I suppose, also, I should tell you how Asha came to this situation and how I got involved in her passions

++++++++++

From early adult life, Asha had been pleased by her own development and especially her figure. Her breasts were as large and full as her mother’s; and her waist was nicely defined in a way that was very much preferred in her community.

She was born into a comfortable business family in South Gujarat, India. Her father, Milind Desai, owned a chain of general stores, two hair-and-beauty parlours and a car-repair garage. In terms of their locality and milieu, they were well-off. She was well-educated to Standard 11, spoke Gujarati, Hindi and English, and was adept at household skills such as cooking and sewing. A good and satisfactory marriage seemed assured and Asha looked forward to her parents arranging it in due course.

In fact, that part went wrong immediately. Through some business deals and financial need, she was engaged at the age of 19 years to another successful businessman. He was also Gujarati and had moved to the hill-station of Sapudana, close to the border with Maharashtra State, and at 8000 feet; so the alpine climate was very pleasant all the year round. A prosperous small town of perhaps only 10,000 inhabitants but at the centre of a massive tribal area for the Dangs, who number over 120,000 members.

Asha’s husband was to be Ratan Kumarbhai. A man three times Asha’s age; massively overweight [we would say clinically obese today with BMI of over 50.0], diabetic and impotent mainly because of his medicine regime, he said. So young Asha and old Ratan were married in February 1986 and she moved to his bungalow in Sapudana. The incongruity of the match was apparent to everyone, including Asha, but it was the culture for young women in those times to obey their parents in such matters.

Ratan was a caring and considerate husband and lavish in his financial allowances for his pretty young wife. She bought whatever she wished and enjoyed her life as best she could, but not to the extent that she could leave the Kadıköy Escort house alone, or visit her parents, or invite friends into the bungalow. Still, it could have been a comfortable life.

But Ratan was impotent. All that Asha had heard about first-night mental terror and physical torment was lost on her. Nothing happened. Well, nothing happened that night; but within a few days Ratan was probing into his wife with fingers and kissing her labia with his moustachioed lips. Asha didn’t object because she got some nice sensations from his actions and, anyway, he was her husband and could do as he wished. That was also part of her culture.

Within a few days, Ratan was exploring his wife’s rectum also. A single finger at first, then two fingers and gradually his entire group of four fingers. She wasn’t cleaned-out and Ratan seemed to enjoy moving his fingers inside her stuffed rectum. When he withdrew his fingers, he carefully wiped Asha with a rose-scented towel and dashed off to his bathroom to wash and scrub and scent his hands, before returning to the marriage bed. I say “his bathroom” because he maintained two; one for each of them so that there would be no embarrassment over their daily ablutions and those time so of the month when women like to take special care of themselves.

Asha had no complaints because Ratan’s manipulation of her anal sphincter and her rectum gave her new pleasurable sensations, which weren’t only new, but she hadn’t even heard of such things before. So she felt like a pioneer and thought that her husband was a special kind of lover. The more fingers he used, the better she liked it and she had not a single thought of restraining him in anything he wished to do. Over the weeks, her anus and rectum became accustomed to regular nightly dilation. She started to empty her bowels with the use of the traditional enema bowl before coming to bed, to make his task of penetration a little easier. And less messy.

The night came when Ratan brought to the bed a dish of olive oil, and placed a towel under his wife before lying down next to her. That night he pressed a little harder and a little longer, and slowly but surely his entire hand slipped inside his wife’s rectum. She gasped, partly with the sudden relaxation as her sphincter clasped down on Ratan’s wrist; but also with the realisation of what they had done. Now she was truly Ratan’s wife: he had possessed her in a special and intimate way. Asha learned to gain orgasms from this activity and became as demanding of his hand and wrist as he was in his desire to penetrate her in the only way he could. Her days became suffused with the sensations of having been stretched the night before and wondering what Ratan would do with her the following night. Some nights, Ratan would sleep with his hand deep inside Asha’s rectum and she would slowly pleasure herself as he slumbered. She learned to bring herself to satisfying orgasms using her right hand against her clitoris. Sometimes Ratan would wake up during these pleasures and would move his hand back and forth inside her as she climaxed. Her pleasure was multiplied many times when he did this, and it became part of their erotic repertoire.

As I said, Ratan was a caring and considerate husband. He obtained for Asha an ivory penis-shaped dildo, so that she could simulate the penetration he couldn’t provide. And also he had a special plug made for her anus: shaped like a pear with a stalk and a T-handle about 3 inches long. She wore that most days, all day, because her anal and rectal muscles became so slack. They could no longer keep inside her the daily load of excrement. So she voided every evening in preparation for his hand. Such a caring and considerate husband, don’t you agree.

But it did not last. After two years of marriage, Ratan succumbed to his diabetes and his obesity. One evening, he uttered a strange guttural sound, opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling, and slumped sideways in his chair. By the time Asha got to the room, the house maid Lalita was with Ratan and trying to prevent him from crashing sideways to the hard marble floor. Asha joined in but they couldn’t support his deadweight and he was truly dead before he even hit the marble. The local doctor had been treating Ratan for many years and simply wrote “cerebral haemorrhage” on the death certificate, without thinking of any alternative cause of death. Of course, Ratan’s family blamed it on Asha; “Such a young wife and him so sick; she wore him out, you know.”

At 21, Asha was a widow. She continued living in Ratan’s bungalow but was expected to accommodate and cater for any members of his family, whenever they wished to visit, and for as long as they stayed. Asha became the keeper of a free hotel for the 200 or more members of Ratan’s extended family and their circle of friends. It was a big change from her life of ease and erotic pleasure, only a few weeks before. And so Asha adopted this life for the same reason as before — it was her culture to accept whatever the older generation decided, and especially the men.

After Ataşehir Escort a lengthy period of mourning, going on for two years, Asha received a proposal of marriage from a man younger than Ratan had been but, at 36, still older that herself and very respectable. He was a Maharashtrian from Nasik named Rajesh Adgaokar; with the same social status as her parents; a multiple business man like her father; and all that convinced everyone that he was just the right man for Asha. And so they were married in May 1990.

Rajesh most definitely was not impotent. He entered his wife every night and almost every morning as the sun was rising. He took her as soon as he arrived home from work, and again as they got into bed. At weekends, he would take her by the hand at any time, and lead her to the bedroom or the bathroom and enter her as she lay, or leaned forward, or perched on the sofa, or leaned with her back against the door of her clothes closet while standing on the little step. He’d been surprised on their wedding night to find her rectum plugged up, but also intrigued and excited to have discovered so unusual and liberated a woman. Rajesh enjoyed his young wife every way he could and began to plan new ways to know her body.

This was an interesting period for them both. Asha showed him the pleasure she got from rectal play, and he resumed the late Ratan’s regime and later extended it to filling his wife in both orifices. Putting it crudely, he thought and sometimes referred to this as “…doing her back and front…” and Asha liked it as much as he did. Rajesh’s hands were smaller than Ratan’s had been and slowly, as the weeks and months went by, he reached a little further into his wife. He learned ways to fill her bottom with his hand and then to fill her vagina with his erection also. Of course, he pleased himself in both places and filled her with his sperms “…back and front…” Asha needed to wear pads and towels every day and all day because Rajesh was voluminous in his output. She was never dry and spent most of her time longing for the next time he would fill her.

But more than that, Rajesh began to explore his wife’s intestinal anatomy and discovered that he could press even further into her than either of them imagined. Slowly, over a period of months, Rajesh pressed his hand to the top of Asha’s rectum, then into the corner that was her sigmoid, and finally into her colon. From a starting position with just his wrist inside her, he came to possess her gastro-intestinal tract right up to his elbow. And Asha responded in ways he could not have foreseen. Whenever Rajesh got his forearm into her, Asha reached an orgasm. She had turned into a “sigmoid freak” in the sense that just that very location seemed to possess new sensations for her, as he stretched her muscles and her passageways.

Being an arranged marriage, and to paraphrase the old adage “widows can’t be choosers” [not in India, anyway] there was little affection in their relationship but considerable respect and excitement as they discovered each other. Hindu marriage is not about friendship or affection but about respect, consideration and pleasure. It is part of the Hindu philosophy that humans should not impose burdens on Creation; and that means other humans, animals and the natural environment. But Hinduism is not a religion in the true sense. There is no mysticism and no “secrets-known-only-to-God.” No heaven and no hell. Therefore its adherents adopt a flexible attitude towards its teachings which are largely ignored as regards other humans and the physical environment. India is a dirty place with piles of plastic bags and empty water bottles along the sides of practically every road; and massive hoardings blocking out magnificent views of a wonderful countryside. Rajesh took his Hinduism seriously and applied it strictly to his marriage with Asha; he lived to please her and keep her happy.

Ratan had been grateful to find a beautiful young wife. Rajesh regarded her as his prize for his success in business and as her lover. Asha accepted his commitment and gave her enthusiastic agreement to anything Rajesh did, so long as it gave her pleasure also.

Of course, Rajesh realised one day that his wife’s two openings were available to his hands as well as his erections. Slowly, over many weeks and months, he stretched her and contorted her until both hands could be squeezed inside her at once; “…back and front…”. The first time was not without some discomfort for Asha although they had been on the verge of his double entry many times.

“Naahi, naahi,” she’d moaned as he reached the knuckles on his second hand in her vaginal labia; his other hand already deep inside her rectum.

But Rajesh ignored her moans and said simply “Haan” in Hindi, meaning “Yes.”

As his hand had finally slipped inside, Asha changed her words: “Ho” she said in the local dialect, “Ho,” also meaning “Yes.”

Asha experienced again the familiar sensations of pain mixed with pleasure; and her orgasm shook them both. Getting both hands out was Maltepe Escort also a trial, that first time. Which to extract first? Certainly not both together. And so they developed a technique for entry and exit; and Asha came to orgasm at both events.

Her orgasms came partly in her head with the knowledge that she was impaled and that her husband had no hands to do anything else but fill her. On one occasion, Rajesh lifted her off the bed using both his hands buried deep inside her; but that was not a success because her weight caused her to slip off his hands and she was a little hurt by the fall. Her openings were so very slack by this time and they did not try that manoeuvre again.

The years went by. Rajesh was successful and Asha needed for nothing. She became pregnant in their second year but the baby miscarried at 20 weeks. She was pregnant again in their fourth year, when Asha was almost 27; but that baby boy was stillborn. Even so, a proper funeral was conducted, and the baby was named Milind after her father, before being cremated. She became pregnant again the following year but the baby girl was also stillborn. Asha’s felt grief of course, and also shame at not being able to produce children for her successful husband. Rajesh did not hold it against her and seemed unaware that his daily invasions of her body may have contributed to their childlessness. Even in Asha’s sixth and seventh month of pregnancy, Rajesh had continued squeezing both hands into her and also shagging her “…back and front…” whenever he wished. Which meant more-or-less every day and night.

Rajesh Adgaokar was also a generous and considerate husband, but he was not a careful man. In particular, his approach to driving his big MPV was typically Indian. And one day, Asha’s second marriage came to as abrupt an end as had the first. Rajesh was killed in a head-on collision on the highway when he was travelling at 130 kph in a monsoon downpour; and the truck travelling towards him, without lights, at night, on the wrong carriageway was doing over 80 kph. Both drivers died instantly and Asha was widowed for the second time at the age of 32 in August 1999.

And now we reach my part in her story.

In 1999, I was coming to the end of a 5-year contract with a big international electronics company in Bombay; recently renamed Mumbai. I worked in the regional office in Nasik, recently renamed Nashik since that was always its proper pronunciation. I visited businesses and municipalities who’d bought the company’s equipment for control of lighting, ventilating, air-con, elevators and so on. I’d been divorced almost 12 years by then and was alone. And lonely. And in a foreign country.

At a social event organized by the city fathers in November 1999, I was introduced to Asha as the widow of one of Nasik’s prominent businessmen who had died recently. In front of me came this exotic creature in her saree and diamante shoes; she shook my hand after her Namaste. Something about her attracted me immediately and she stared into my eyes; an unusual gesture for an Indian woman, especially a widow.

Let me shorten the tale to say that I asked her to join me for a meal, then for a trip to a local tourist site, and finally to move in with me. She declined, of course, since such open living-together would have been utterly unacceptable in her social circle even in the late 1990s. So we had trips to interesting places, stayed in hotels, and got to know each other very well. And still no sex, although a lot of touching and feeling. I discovered very soon that she was plugged up her rectum, and that she responded immediately to any pressure or manipulation of her pubic region. I thought, “This is the woman for me, if I can get her” and I set about capturing her. It did not happen quickly but I was resolute in my pursuit of Asha and she came round to the idea of being a Britisher’s wife. Eventually. She came to me as a much married and thrice pregnant Indian woman in her 30’s. No longer the sylph-like figure of the girl she once was and not demure either. Her breasts were larger and needed firm support from bra styles not available in India; so they were among the first purchases as soon as we arrived in UK. And her tummy showed the signs of her pregnancies; so a range of firm and supportive foundations were obtained for her. Unfortunately, the old makers such as Berlei, Triumph, Warner and M&S had stopped producing the kind of garments I wanted for her, so we made do with Rago and styles from suppliers such as Woods of Morecambe, all mail order or online. Open girdles, high waist, zippered closure and suspenders for stockings. Asha has been as delighted with these clothes as much as she was surprised when she was first put into them. She came to wear such clothes every day.

We’ve been married for 10 years and we live in Surrey, south of London, England. How shall I describe my discoveries with Asha? For some weeks before we were married in a civil ceremony in Mumbai, we spent days together in my house at Nasik; but not overnight. That would have signalled a loss of respect from me to her and for her self-esteem. But you can do anything in the afternoon that could also be done in the night. Yes? So I found her rectum and withdrew the plug and learned from her how to give her the pleasurable fullness she craved.

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