Emily opened her eyes. She was awake again, laying on her white bed, wearing the silk nightgown she always wore, slim straps and a cut that hugs her figure down to her mid-thigh, with her soft and fuzzy comforter neatly covering her thin frame. She lifted her arms and arched her back, stretching her wrists out towards the white walls. Her room was a large cube centered around the bed, about twenty five feet on each side, and it had no doors or windows, at least not at the moment. She slid her bare feet to the floor, cool to her touch, and stood up. Her straight and well-kept hair fell, settling in the small of her back, as if it knew where it ought to be. A moment later, her bed was gone.
She stood there in the middle of the room, the walls and floor so devoid of feature that it was hard to gauge their distance, as she waited expectantly for the day to begin. She didn't have to wait long before she felt the barest breeze, pricking up the hair on her pale neck. She turned around to find a tall, narrow rock climbing wall. More of a rock column, really, this looming structure reached about twenty feet in the air and stood only three feet wide, with a marble base and speckled granite holdings. The entire thing was polished to a brilliant luster, glinting with light from sources that didn't seem to be a part of the room. In front of the tower were two small, silk-padded boxes. One contained a sizable, glass butt plug with a loop on one end and a pearl about a quarter inch in diameter encased in the head. The other box was empty.
Emily understood, at least well enough to get started. She began slipping her dress off, starting with the top and peeling it down, exposing her perky breasts to open air. Her nipples stiffened up immediately to the chill, goosebumps rapidly forming on her supple mounds. She shivered. Continuing, she pushed the thin silk below her hips, allowing it to drop to the floor before stepping out of it. Completely bare, she picked up her nightgown, still warm, folded it, and placed it gingerly in the empty box. Turning her attention to the other container, she lifted the heavy object inside, sizing it up.
It was colder than she expected, and about half as wide as her fist. She could fit three fingers in the rather large loop at its base. She glanced down, looking for some lubrication, but both boxes had already disappeared. Emily was not surprised. Making do with what little she had, she sat, legs splayed wide in a crouch, leaning against the gleaming white monolith. She held the crystalline mass in one hand, and, placing it between her breasts, gently dripped saliva on its tip.
With her other hand, she reached and quickly found the folds of her sex, slowly working her fingers around. She leaned her head back and exhaled, feeling her wetness come rapidly. Lowering the bulbous weapon, the tip poised at the entrance to her vagina, she pushed it deeper and deeper, until it passed its widest point and suddenly slipped the rest of the way in as she yelped in surprise and pleasure. This thing was huge, forcing aside her other organs to make room for its enormous girth. This alone was enough for the task at hand, but the act left her yearning for more. Emily expertly rubbed her clit, in addition to tugging on the ring now jutting out from her, only managing to partially pull it out each time before it gets sucked back in.
She began to whimper involuntarily as the tidal wave grew. Just a little more, those whimpers became needful grunts as she desperately mashed her cunt with the tool. Suddenly she cried out, her muscles clamping hard around the smooth object, as if to milk it dry of cum it didn't have. She curled into a ball and fell to her side as wave after wave pulsed through her groin and she spasmatically sloshed her insides. As the feeling subsided, she felt the tension leave her body as she collapsed, and she could feel her juices slipping past her new friend and dripping onto the floor. After enjoying the moment a while longer, she dragged herself to her knees, and assumed the widest position her knees would allow.
Gingerly removing the butt plug with a soft pop, she gasped at her sensitivity. Now entirely slick with her saliva and sex juices, she knew she needed to work quickly before it began to dry. Bracing it against the floor, pointed up, she shakily lowered herself until the point was kissing her pucker. With a deep breath, she began to sit, wincing as she felt her other hole stretch around the foreign object. When she felt her cheeks graze the floor, temporarily warmer with her wetness, her muscles gave way and the sex-coated crystal lunged into her exit, eliciting an involutary clench from Emily, which only further cemented itself inside her.
Emily carefully stood, still adjusting to the hitchhiker in her butthole. She could feel it pushing outwards, almost forcing her slender legs slightly apart. It was a good thing then, that she wouldn't need them to be together for this next activity. She turned to face the monolith. It seemed larger now, with the weight of her climax weighing on her limbs as she stalked around it, considering her approach. Choosing a first hold, she grasped the polished knob, only then realizing her hands were also slippery from her juices. She looked around in vain for something to dry them on. Finally, she opted to wipe them on her body, smearing sweet-scented love over her breasts and stomach. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do. She placed her hands once more on the tower.
Working slowly, Emily's toned muscles flexing under her smooth, completely bare skin, she carried her passenger higher and higher. The holdings on this structure were not large, and they were every bit as highly polished as the main body itself. She focused on her hands and feet, taking this journey one hold at a time, trying to precisely place them in order to afford the best grip. It wasn't the largest wall, but it felt like an eternity. She glanced down, her long black hair partly obscuring her view, and saw she was pretty high up now. She went to step on a higher peg, but her other foot lost contact and slipped. Her arms were not in a position to keep her steady, and she fell.
Emily's heart pounded, her hair whipping past her as she plummeted backwards from the tower. Terrified, she couldn't even utter a cry, but tears welled in her eyes as the peak, which had felt so close a moment ago, rocketed away from view. But just as she would have struck the ground, she felt a tug on her buttplug ring, like an invisible harness was tethered to it, the momentum of her fall sharply trying to yank the thing out of her. But every fiber of her body was clenched in panic, and her sphincter refused to give way. It felt like her organs were going to be ripped out as she dangled midair from her ass, arms and legs flailing wildly, her vision completely obscured by the now mess of hair. She finally managed a gutteral shriek, immensely grateful when the floor came within reach and she was lowered to it.
Emily laid there for several minutes, sobbing, her hot tears running off her nose and wetting the featureless floor. She wasn't sure if it was out of fear, or pain, or a mixture of both. Her whole body shaking, she let gasps and tears come over her. She reached back to inspect her anus for damage. Somehow, it hadn't torn, but it was definitely sore. But she knew she couldn't lay there forever, so she staggered to her feet. She brushed her hair away from her face when she was struck with an idea. She still needed to dry herself if she was going to make it to the top, and so she touseled her hair, running it through her fingers, letting the now flaking secretions come off of her hands. She sat, careful not to sit directly on the ring still protruding from her now badly bruised ass, and used her hair to do the same with her feet.
Ready to try her hand at the tower once more, Emily prayed that she wouldn't have a repeat of the last attempt. She didn't think her butthole would survive a second fall. Clasping the cold stone with her dainty fingers, she began her journey once more. This time, the added grip afforded by her dryness made navigating marginally easier, but she couldn't afford to get complacent. The holds seems to disappear under her more steadily now, even as her muscles ached from the exertion. About three-quarters of the way up, Emily felt beads of sweat pricking her scalp, and she knew that time was running low if she wanted to continue being able to grip the glistening stone.
