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As the head of my penis disappeared into her rear opening, she gasped, then a shudder rippled up her spine from the tailbone to the neck. Her body went slack, then began writhing as she let loose sharp yelps of pleasure. Her skin took on the radiance of a woman in the grip of forces she couldn’t control. Now was the crucial interval. She could still freeze up and block orgasmic release . . . unless I took that choice away from her. I began a slow rhythm of alternating deep and shallow thrusts. This would create low-level pressure waves from the air alternately compressed and distended in her lower intestine. It induced a thrumming vibration in her guts, similar to the overtones of a low-pitched oboe. Hypnotic mood-altering, resonating subsonics. I was playing her like a musical instrument, and the hole in her bottom was the echo chamber for our symphony. Thirty strokes per minute — the heartbeat rhythm, the metronome beat of the pulse, the oceanic beat of the surf. An unearthly wail ripped through her intestines and a scream of ecstasy began to bubble up from her throat. The electrolyte gel formed an airtight seal between my shaft and her opening. But it had one additional property. It was an excellent conduct of electric current. I reached behind me and pressed the button on the small device strapped between my buttocks. ..[continue reading]..

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