your book, it sounded like fun to write down a fantasy I have been having – it seems a little more difficult to share it. Actually, my fantasy does not materialize during sex, but rather acts as kind of a “sleeping pill” when I have had a particularly tiring day at work.
It begins as I am sitting in a waiting room which is painfully antiseptic and severe. I feel very uncomfortable being there, for it seems it is somewhat against my will. Other girls are seated around me also nervously shifting in their chairs.
Finally, my name is called by a woman who resembles an old grade-school librarian. Very unchic and clinical. She shows me into a huge office painted white, with a cold metal examination table in the middle. She asks that I remove my clothes and carry them to the corner of the room. When I bend down to put them there, she tells me to stay in that position while she prepares an injection to tranquilize me. She finally returns and feels all over me for the correct site – usually on my rear. As she is giving me the shot, three men enter the room. One is deadly serious, and the others are his students. They are all surprised at the position I am in. The teacher appears cross with the woman for not doing a better job of relaxing me.
I am told to mount the examination table. I do and lie on my back. But one of the students laughs and asks me to turn over, saying he needs the relaxed end up. It is at that point, out of the 37
corner of my eye, with my head resting on my hands, that I see a large machine being wheeled in with a tubular device attached to a long rubber hose. One of the students asks me to relax and spread my legs as far as they will go, while the other student, amid sideways winks and donning rubber gloves, lubricates my rectum with his fingers. The teacher then slowly and with some difficulty (because I keep tightening my muscles) inserts the tube into my rear and announces that this is an enema designed with both an outflow and inflow suction.
Water swishes, legs are held apart, and I am constantly told to relax. After a while, it is all over, and the tube is removed.
By then I am usually asleep.
Should I need to fantasize further, I am prepared.
The teacher tells me I am to be the model for a mold or casting of a dildo to better fit all women. Another injection, and then I am turned over. My legs are spread on a trapeze affair suspended from the ceiling. The students busy themselves with a thorough douching of my vagina, while the teacher feels my breasts and asks me if it hurts.
Then another machine is wheeled in with a larger tube inserted into that clean vagina. The plaster oozes out of the tube and seems to fill my whole body. It's warm and keeps expand-ing. One of the students pushes his hand on my stomach, while the other closes the slit with his fingers. Meanwhile, the doctor inserts a lubricated thermometer in my rectum.
Others are called to help remove the casting – usually men that I have never had affairs with, but have thought about it.
They enter the room slightly surprised to see me, but don rubber gloves and aid in taking out the form.
The final bliss comes when it is tried out on the librarian-type.
I am amazed that I wrote this, but really did have fun doing it. It is a genuine fantasy.
Robyn
I just finished reading your book, My Secret Garden , and I must admit I enjoyed it very much.
38
To give you a bit of my background, I'm female, eighteen, and am presently engaged to be married in one and a half years. Please, no comments! I've had enough objections from my parents and relatives already! John and I are very much in love, although we've known each other only eight short months!
I've had sex with two other guys before John, but I never really enjoyed it. With John, every minute we are making love is heaven. I am the first girl John has ever fucked, and John is the only guy who's made me reach a climax. We fuck about three or four times a week (I'm on the pill),
It begins as I am sitting in a waiting room which is painfully antiseptic and severe. I feel very uncomfortable being there, for it seems it is somewhat against my will. Other girls are seated around me also nervously shifting in their chairs.
Finally, my name is called by a woman who resembles an old grade-school librarian. Very unchic and clinical. She shows me into a huge office painted white, with a cold metal examination table in the middle. She asks that I remove my clothes and carry them to the corner of the room. When I bend down to put them there, she tells me to stay in that position while she prepares an injection to tranquilize me. She finally returns and feels all over me for the correct site – usually on my rear. As she is giving me the shot, three men enter the room. One is deadly serious, and the others are his students. They are all surprised at the position I am in. The teacher appears cross with the woman for not doing a better job of relaxing me.
I am told to mount the examination table. I do and lie on my back. But one of the students laughs and asks me to turn over, saying he needs the relaxed end up. It is at that point, out of the 37
corner of my eye, with my head resting on my hands, that I see a large machine being wheeled in with a tubular device attached to a long rubber hose. One of the students asks me to relax and spread my legs as far as they will go, while the other student, amid sideways winks and donning rubber gloves, lubricates my rectum with his fingers. The teacher then slowly and with some difficulty (because I keep tightening my muscles) inserts the tube into my rear and announces that this is an enema designed with both an outflow and inflow suction.
Water swishes, legs are held apart, and I am constantly told to relax. After a while, it is all over, and the tube is removed.
By then I am usually asleep.
Should I need to fantasize further, I am prepared.
The teacher tells me I am to be the model for a mold or casting of a dildo to better fit all women. Another injection, and then I am turned over. My legs are spread on a trapeze affair suspended from the ceiling. The students busy themselves with a thorough douching of my vagina, while the teacher feels my breasts and asks me if it hurts.
Then another machine is wheeled in with a larger tube inserted into that clean vagina. The plaster oozes out of the tube and seems to fill my whole body. It's warm and keeps expand-ing. One of the students pushes his hand on my stomach, while the other closes the slit with his fingers. Meanwhile, the doctor inserts a lubricated thermometer in my rectum.
Others are called to help remove the casting – usually men that I have never had affairs with, but have thought about it.
They enter the room slightly surprised to see me, but don rubber gloves and aid in taking out the form.
The final bliss comes when it is tried out on the librarian-type.
I am amazed that I wrote this, but really did have fun doing it. It is a genuine fantasy.
Robyn
I just finished reading your book, My Secret Garden , and I must admit I enjoyed it very much.
38
To give you a bit of my background, I'm female, eighteen, and am presently engaged to be married in one and a half years. Please, no comments! I've had enough objections from my parents and relatives already! John and I are very much in love, although we've known each other only eight short months!
I've had sex with two other guys before John, but I never really enjoyed it. With John, every minute we are making love is heaven. I am the first girl John has ever fucked, and John is the only guy who's made me reach a climax. We fuck about three or four times a week (I'm on the pill),
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