Over the Covid-19 lockdowns, some of us used the time to get to know ourselves far more intimately. Learn from one bottom's mistake as this tale serves as a reminder to LISTEN TO YOUR BODY.

There comes a time in every power bottom's life where they have to overcome insurmountable odds. If by insurmountable, you mean 12 inches long and by odds, you mean 7 inches in girth. Well, it happened… I overcame. Emphasis on the came.

Visiting my local sex store, my eyes are clearly bigger than my hole when I purchase the mecca of all dildos. I’m so excited to try it, so I rush home. By the time I get there, I’m practically pre-lubed in anticipation! I sashay through the door, turn on Marvin Gaye’s “Let's Get It On”, and so it begins.

At first glance, this dildo, shining in its packet, looks so inviting. My hungry hole is begging to be squeezed around this gargantuan fuck stick. This is my Everest and I’m going to divide (my cheeks) and conquer.

TL:DR? Skip to the juicy stuff here

As I begin to unravel the dildo from its packaging, my challenge becomes clear. I really can't tell at this point if this is going to be pleasurable or painful. Nevertheless, she persisted, and I'm quite invested now (literally – it cost $144.98). I position myself comfortably on my bed, lying down, with a towel underneath me (because this is going to require A LOT of water-based lube; works best with silicone sex toys).

A little tickle on the taint with the head of the dildo sends shivers up my spine. I can't tell if it's eager anticipation or fear, but I'm vibing, so let's continue. As I move the tip further down towards my hole,  I feel it tighten up. It's time to ditch the dillie and put my fingers to work.

Up, down, side-to-side, clockwise, anti-clockwise, in, out, one finger, two fingers, three fingers. I am desperately trying to prepare my hole to fit this monster-cock of a dildo. I have something to prove. A Gay on a mission. At this stage in the game, I am well on my way to having the soggiest bussy of them all. My poor gay wrists are the real MVP of this tale, having served on the front line of opening me up on my quest to dick myself down.

Now comes the moment of truth. Using the 'push out, push in method' I start to slide the dick-rod in. It's not quite fitting. Is my hole rejecting this amazing anal excavator? Have I got the wrong angle? Look, there were bound to be complications along the way, but nothing is going to hold this bottom back. Okay, so we change positions. There we go. She's in. Now caution lies in the speed. My rectum is not used to being dilated seven inches. With each centimeter in the excavation of my bussy, I exercise poise and grace equivalent to Michelle Visage being Silence!d by RuPaul. Patience is most certainly a virtue and one that must be exercised in the soggification of bussies through thick and long dildo insertion.

I'm about halfway in to the Journey to the Centre of my Bussy (approx 6. inches) now, and what feels like hours have passed. My hands are full and lubey, so I ask Siri what the time is. Amazingly, it’s only been 10 minutes. With all this esotericism, surely I'll be ascending to a higher plane soon enough. The deeper I go, the more the entrance of my hole gets used to the girth. This is where the fun begins. I begin working up a rhythm now; 8,9,10 inches deep, wow only two inches to go 'till this dildo is fully embraced by my rectal passage. That's one small opening for gay, one giant dildo for gaykind.

Now that the whole dildo is inside me, it's time to have some fun. I'm riding this thing like the mechanical bull at the 2019 Big Gay Out after a few tequila shots. Yee-fucking-haw. Bounce, bounce, bounce. I’m reversing that big Mack truck right in this little garage, over and over again. I feel unstoppable. This is extraordinary. Taking 12 inches is my new superpower and no top can tell me otherwise.

Ah, Icarus, you flew too close to the sun, my dear. I'm pumping away, slippin', slidin', jerkin', tossin', polka dot it, pop and lock it and it happens. Just when I thought I had reached my peak. A silent, yet agonising pain shoots from bussy to my neck in a matter of milliseconds. I pause. If I can be DP'd in a threesome then a little pain from this mammoth dildo is no obstacle and besides, I'm so close anyway, right? WRONG - you should always stop if you are experiencing unwanted pain during sexual activities.

It was like that scene out of Finding Nemo, when Marlin and Dory are threatened by seagulls and Marlin says "Don't - make -any - sudden - movements." I’m not about to tear this out of my ass like a ripcord, but I’m so bloody (excuse the pun) close. To maximise the potential in this particular situation, I leave it in and finish myself off. But only after doing so do I realise that my work is cut out for me -  removing a pain-inducing dildo from my ass while covered in my own cum is going to be no easy task. Stuck between a cock and a torn ass.

I begin the painstaking process of unsheathing this dildo from my back passage. DEEP. BREATHS. Luckily, I’ve used extensive amounts of lube so viscosity isn’t the issue, just my clenching butthole, who really does not want to part with the dildo (probably due to the internal injury I’ve just sustained). They’re attached like yearning lovers as one prepares to leave for war on a train. Finally, with a vacuous pop, my hole releases its grip from the dildo, separating the star-crossed lovers.

EMERGENCY STATIONS. It’s time to get to the bottom (excuse the pun) of the issue. My fingers, frantically searching and swiping the crime scene for evidence of injury. No blood. Phew. Danger averted.

Fast-forward to the next morning's bowel evacuation. Lo and behold, the toilet bowl looks like a murder scene. Blood splattered everywhere from my torn up bussy.

Coincidentally, my 3-month sexual health check-up is scheduled two days after the 'incident'. "What're we doing for you today?", my doctor enquires. Very matter-of-factly, I announce "I either have an anal fissure or I'm displaying symptoms of chlamydia.” We perform the swabs and before my doc even needs to dilate my hole, he proclaims "Oh yes, there's a tear - and it comes right out of your sphincter.” Relieved that my suspicions are confirmed, I’m sent away, Ultraproct in hand, ready to take on my next challenge - abstinence for the next 6 weeks. Two days later, a call from my doctor confirms that I also have chlamydia in my butt - DOUBLE WHAMMY COMBO! Between the Doxycycline (for the chlamydia) and the Ultraproct, I felt like I was in Atomic Kitten’s classic music video "You Can Fix My Hole Again".

Do you ever feel like you’re shitting glass? That’s as close to the feeling of having a simultaneous anal fissure and chlamydia double whammy surprise as I can describe. Every bowel movement is met with anxiety. However, I can't sing Ultraproct's praises enough! Not only is this little suppository ointment the only action I get in 6 weeks, but it swiftly soothes my feisty lil fissure with its steroidy goodness. Once the Doxy does its thing and the chlim chlam clears up, Mx Anal fissure begins to heal a lot quicker; and besides, I probably need the 6 weeks off anyway.

The moral of this tale, dear reader, is you should always listen to your body when it comes to pain or discomfort during sexual experiences. You are in control and can stop at any time. If you notice bleeding, make sure you get it examined by a medical professional as soon as you can. This story also serves as a gentle reminder to consistently and regularly get tested for HIV and other STIs, because they may go hand-in-hand with an anal fissure. Go well and look after yourself out there! Happy gaping!

Yours,

Fissured and Free.