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What a romantic title. But there’s something to the idea of surrendering. Of having resisted long enough, and knowing that the battle is lost, so I may as well give up and hope to be treated kindly by my captor. And pretty early into our experiment with me being a real submissive wife (by our standards, ymmv!), he told me quite clearly that anal was going to be a regular event. That’s anal sex, butt plugs, and vaginal sex with butt plugs in, to be quite clear. I argued a bit, early on, politely put forward my reticence, and then he pointed out the safeguards he has in place, the reasons he has for taking care of me, and ultimately the fact that ownership is ownership. I needed to trust him. So, I did. Enough. To stop arguing.

And that meant that the few butt plugs we had, got some new companions. The chastity belt now went on with a butt plug in, pretty much every time. Anal training became “a thing” – he would use progressively larger butt plugs on me, sometimes in the matter of a few hours, sometimes over a week or two. He used anal sex early on to prove his dominance and ownership of me, and then later it became something I craved to experience that absolute submission, the sense of being enslaved, of being a collection of holes to be fucked.

And now it’s used, whenever, however, and the end result is always the same. I’m a blubbering mess, craving cuddles and being held, with a sore ass from a massive cock fucking it without mercy, and to be honest, I usually end up begging for it again. Immediately. Once I’m put right down there in my slave place, I want to stay there, for as long as possible. And that’s what my ass is used for. To keep me in my place.