The Hole Inspector

The Hole Inspector Chapter / Case Study Number One The Perfect Pussy

This multi-part story is made up of a series of case studies, all narrated by the Hole Inspector and his assistant, Jason. The main themes are fisting, ass-work, fucking, body transformation, toys and gear. This chapter: average reading time 30 minutes.

"I inspect cunts for a living. You may not have heard of my profession and you might not call your hole a cunt, but trust me, both exist.

My trade is made up of a select band of men who share a very special passion: big cunts and knowing how to make them. Because believe me, whilst we all have the ability to be a cunt (or pussy, pighole, fist-trench, slot-cavern or pure, simple manhole) not everyone knows how to achieve that glorious state. That's where I come in: I help people realise their hole's true potential.

Of course, I don't just get hired by guys who want their own potential realised. I also work with tops who want their friends, fuck-buds and partners turned out. Sometimes that's a shared goal, sometimes not. Either way, I don't give a fuck. That may sound callous but my passion and purpose in life is filling the world with capable cunts and magnificent manholes. For me, that's all that matters."

For my first case study I'd like to start with the relatively straight-forward story of Erik.

When we met he was a sexy colt in his early thirties and a total bottom to boot. Erik was one of those guys who live by giving as much pleasure as possible to the tops they play with. In his case, he was doing it by doubling-down and making his hole a real distinguishing characteristic. I always find that hot, after all the truly great bottoms are those who are on a constant journey of self-improvement.

Erik found me through the usual discreet channels and I soon arranged a time to meet at my workspace. I long time ago I'd taken over an abandoned Victorian factory the length of a street-block and since then I've converted it to exactly meet my needs - fully equipped play spaces, an engineering shop for my transformation devices, a laboratory to manufacture my special concoctions, a set of short and long-term holding cells, and finally, my public-facing consulting rooms.

Of course, given my reputation it was vitally important I created the right atmosphere from the very first moment clients walk in. A professional and luxurious (read expensive!) reception area, and - of course - a well-hung and hyper-sexualised male receptionist.

My current guy was Jason. He knew exactly what was expected of him and understood his role perfectly. He was to be both someone to lust after and yet be scared of at the same time. A powerful combination. He was confident, assured, accessible, and yet at the same time strangely remote. That was deliberate: everything about him was intended to make you question your own identity and desires.

He was natural, stylish and yet not fashionable. However, he was currently rocking an on-point 1980s look. Don't think garish shell-suits though, more super tight shorts and bold stripes. It was all part of his vibe.

A deep and sultry baritone voice that was so low it could cause earthquakes. A voice that managed to hold campness, confidence, swagger, openness and intimidation in one. Which of those were you?

Lean muscles, corded veins and yet a hint of paunch on his stomach. That was achievable, right?

A super-tight t-shirt that made his nipples obscenely stand out like thimbles. Was that what you wanted?

A pelt of fur that escaped his neck-line and ran down his arms. Did you want to be that bearish, or not?

Tan shorts that barely contained his beefy thighs. You wanted to look that strong, right? And yet, did you want to reveal a bulge that obscenely big? And was he going commando? Was that hot or not?

Bright, curious eyes that were alive with suggestion. How could you resist that energy? Could you?

Jason was there to create sexual imbalance so I could then restore it. And get big money in the process!

Now, you may say this was all overkill. But image is everything and as Erik walked into my consultation room I knew my beefcake of a receptionist had done his work well. God, I'd have to give him a raise soon if I didn't want him to be stolen by one of my competitors. Maybe it was time to increase his role?After all, he did create an atmosphere that suggested anything was possible...

And, right now, Erik was my next target.

I've designed my consultation rooms to perfection. One side of the room was laid out as gentlemen's reading room - oak walls, books, deep leather furniture and the tang of cigar smoke - whereas the other half was set-out as evil, medical professor's lair. It couldn't have been a more different contrast - oak against white tiles, comfort against stainless steel medical equipment. What can I say? I liked the juxtaposition, it helped clients prepare for what was to come.

I stood up and partially welcomed Erik in - me in my white leather lab coat and him in his streetwear - and started to discuss his needs. At this point we will both standing as I didn't want him to get too comfortable. Meanwhile, Jason stood in the open door, a quiet but imposing presence designed to ensure clients couldn't back out.

`Erik, you're looking to have the perfect pussy, yes?' I stated. A nod was all I needed. I motioned him over the threshold and then beckoned to Jason to come inside too. It was time to bring my receptionist into the inner circle.

I led Erik over to the `medical' side and asked him to strip so I could inspect what I had to work with. I was glad to see he had no qualms about undressing as I always think that proud bottoms make the best patients. That doesn't mean being an exhibitionist, but you've got to own it, right?

Soon he was lying back on my examination table with his legs spread and I was impressed by what I saw: a hole that was nicely developed with some good corrugations. It was dark pink, the kind of colour that was only revealed after seeing some proper work.

At this point - despite my initial distance - I always like to flirt a bit. It may seem unprofessional but its often the only true way of finding out whether I have chemistry with a client. There was inevitably going to be an element of physicality to our professional relationship and I couldn't do my job if there wasn't some level of connection between the two of us.

To be honest, I'm a great believer in the fist on the first date' principle. It was either there from the beginning or it wasn't. I slapped his rump and told him he had a fine arse. The only thing that would make it better would be a fist inside of it', I smiled.

Erik couldn't help himself and waggled his butt appreciatively. `Oh, it's like that is it?' I excitedly replied. I slapped his butt again and told him that I looked forward to finding out for myself.

I then let Jason take his own appraising view before telling Erik to get dressed and take a seat on the other side of the room. We sat back and I started by asking his particulars - age (33), height (5' 11"), weight (a formidable and muscular 93kg) and then dived into all my standard questions:

• How often did he play? - When was his last time? - Who with? - What did he look for in a session? - Which porn stars did he look up to? - What was his ideal sexual encounter? - What did he wank off to that he was ashamed of?

And - of course - what exactly he wanted from me. What did having the perfect pussy mean to him?

I won't recant all his details - some things have to be private after all - but I was impressed by how Jason took the initiative and joined in to the questioning. His follow-up questions were masterly. Why did he like John Thomas, for example? What precisely was it about that porn star's hole that he most admired? It's depth, size, slackness or appearance? All those answers were deeply revealing to Erik's personality and desires.

What came out was the portrait of a man who knew he had game when it came to taking a fist, but a man who also had a nagging doubt that he could be better. He had depth, width and stamina down pat, but was his hole as good as it could be? This was his deepest and simplest desire, a desire he was wiling to invest thousands of pounds in exploring with me.

Of course, what one man thinks is simple is often incredibly complex.

That's why I've spent years developing my trademarked `Fist Protocol'. It allows me to make an objective assessment of a client's development. Science over subjectivity - it's one of the reasons why I have such a good professional reputation. After all, anyone can take a fist but how do you benchmark it? Every session is different and every scene has its own challenges and opportunities. Who's to say that a fist-orgy in a sleazy dark room is any better or worse than a laid-back and intense sling-session in the peace and quiet of a bedroom?

That was exactly why I'd designed the protocol: to take the guess work out of manufacturing the perfect pussy.

I explained how it ran. That Erik - at his earliest convenience - would be strapped into a genealogical chair I'd custom designed to help me run the procedure safely. And consistently. He would be tested on all the core elements of fisting - time to entry, depth, girth and punch ability. And his resting and developed pussy state, of course.

I also made it clear that - at this stage - I wouldn't be looking to push, expand or transform his hole. The protocol was a measure of his current capabilities, not his future potential. It was a test of limits, not of changing state.

I took in the picture. Erik sitting in front of me and Jason standing to one side. Right now, I couldn't tell who was more excited.

I knew by now that Jason was a master at only letting the feelings he wanted to reveal show on the outside. However, he wasn't doing all that good a job at the moment which meant it must have been deliberate. He had a mischievous grin and his fat dick was pumping out so much pre-cum that the front of his shorts were obscenely damp. I could tell he was eager to be involved.

Erik was excited too, sitting forward on the edge of his seat. By now we'd already discussed prices so he knew exactly what he getting in for. Oh, and that everything was going to be filmed in graphic detail. The recording was important as it meant I didn't have to worry about counting fist reps or worrying about timings - everything could be assessed once the protocol was over. Having said that, I was now pretty sure Jason was primed to help out in that regard.

(Of course, the film would also be packaged up and used to measure progress over time - in fact, I have many guys who come back year-on-year to check on their development.)

I closed things off with one very important point. That, for the purposes of standardisation, the test had to start in the same way, each and every time. That meant Erik would have to wear a chastity belt for a week before the test.

The bottom jumped to conclusions and asked why I wanted to lock up his dick. I laughed and was quick to disabuse him of that idea. I didn't give a fuck about his cock. No, I only cared about the state of his hole when he arrived. It had to be... untouched. Or at least, not touched for seven days beforehand.

Jason - magically on cue - handed me the device I wanted Erik to wear. A very special device that was one of my own inventions.

It was made of leather and steel and looked a little bit like a jock, securing around the waist and cradling both arse cheeks. However, the important feature was the strap that ran between those cheeks. It left the cock free but completely controlled the wearer's arse. It was a clever piece of kit, designed around a silicone iris that closely fitted over the hole. Sensors would open the iris to allow egress and evacuation but would deny entry to any insertion in the opposite direction (whether toy, dildo or hand).

Jason helped me strap it around Erik's waist and adjusted it so it was perfectly lined up with his hole. I then padlocked it tight and arranged our next appointment. The bottom left with a spring in his step and (I could tell) a new sense of purpose. I instinctively knew that whatever happened next, Erik achieving his perfect pussy would be the defining achievement of life.

He arrived bang on time, which was good as I like an eager pussy! Jason - freshly pumped from the gym and sweat dripping from every pore - led Erik past my consultation rooms and into one of my play spaces. The one I'd specially designed to run the fist protocol.

No matter how many times I've done this I still love the reaction when clients walk in for the first time. The thic and muscular bottom stood in the doorway, startled by what he saw but also taking time to adjust to the red light. As his pupils opened up he could see me standing to one side and just past that a monstrous rack of toys and containers of lube, all ready and waiting. However, it was always the gyno chair that eyes settled on.

This time was no different.

It was a slightly disturbing sight. The open leg stirrups, the sturdy construction, the big electric motors that moved the back rest and ass bench, the arm rests, the bolts securing it to the floor... and, of course, the ominous leather restraints that studded it all over. To the uninitiated - even one with Erik's desire to have the perfect pussy - it was scary and intimidating as fuck.

That's why I had Jason here. Not only to push Erik over the threshold but also to see the fear in a client's face and learn how to deal with it. It was his first time helping me run the protocol and I wanted to make the most of it.

My first step was to acknowledge Erik's fear and hesitation head-on. I beckoned him in and handing over a drink (perfectly prepared to his tastes, I did my research well). I smiled and said `I know, right? It looks intense! The hardware, the toy racks, the whole bondage set-up. But trust me, it's all here for good reason.'

At that point I always step forward and casually put one hand on the head rest of the chair. That always seems to humanise it. And I take a long draught of my own drink, nudging the client along with my eyes. The desire to fit in - to be like the people surrounding us - is strong and invariably they always sip their own drink at this moment in response. Erik certainly did.

Even then, I knew he must be overtly conscious of the differences in our appearance. He was dressed in streetwear, whist I looked like the Dominant fetish top I am. A well-worn brown leather apron, engineering boots and black, elbow-high latex gloves. Jason? A shredder vest damp with sweat, high tops and gym shorts that left nothing to the imagination. This was all deliberate. I wanted to know that I was in charge of the scene - to be both inspired and intimidated by my gear - and yet at the same time be reassured by Jason's get up. After all, Erik was a creation of the gym.

As we drank I went on to explain that the fist protocol relied on having the same conditions each and every time I ran it - for scientific accuracy and to maintain professional standards. That meant I needed to be fully in control of the experience, necessitating a small degree of restraint. (It's always good to downplay these things - if Erik knew he was about to be locked up tighter than a new admittance to a secure mental facility with custodians who didn't give the benefit of doubt they he'd run a country mile!)

I was reassuring but assertive, taking the edge off Erik's fear but also making it clear that backing out wasn't an option. That he wanted this... that he'd asked for it... and surely he didn't want the last 7 days he'd spent in anal chastity to be for nothing?

By now I knew - from deep experience - the combination of alcohol, adrenaline and the pervading aroma of leather, ass, sweat and lube would have done their job. Anticipation was a powerful emotion and I knew that Erik was ready. I nodded at Jason to kick things off. He helped the bottom undress, removing his special anal chastity device and getting him settled in the chair - I knew that having the gym-fresh Jason play the role of hot fitness bunny strapping Erik in would ease things along.

However, it was then that I stepped in. The restraints had to be done in a particular order and I wanted Jason to learn it first hand. The good thing was that they were all symmetrical so he could do one side of the body as I demonstrated the other side myself. However, the really important thing was distracting the client throughout the process so he wouldn't get alarmed about the tightening leather that was slowly imprisoning him.

I kept up a running commentary. You know this is all for your benefit, right? I know tonight is going to help you meet your forever goals. You want that, right? You're going to have a great time tonight, being fisted after a week off is going to feel soooo good. That's a long time for you... you must be so hungry by now. You need it, right?

Of course he did!

Soon, Erik was a sight to behold. His hole was beautifully presented - in its resting state and unplayed with for a week - surrounded by his magnificent muscular and hairy arse cheeks. Erik really did make the effort in the gym! I was proud to say that by now the bottom was drooling with lust. Well, certainly his dick was! His muscles - now shiny in the artificially humid air - were relaxed and yet also strained at the thick, leather restraints holding him down.

`I'm ready, do your worst' he said. I smiled and thanked him. It was time to wet my fists.

However, my first step was to help include Jason. Now was the moment to make my assistant feel like he fitted in and was just as responsible for running the protocol as I was.

I did that by handing over an apron just like mine. I'd carefully made one up for him in my workshop earlier that day and Jason smiled warmly as he slipped it over his head. I knew exactly what he was thinking: what action would it see and just how long would it take before it looked as well-used as mine?

The ritual of giving my assistant an apron of his own was there for another reason too. It allowed me to stand back and allow the high-definition cameras dotted around the room to capture every element of the hole so carefully laid out in the gyno chair. The powerful lens recorded everything, not least Erik's resting state. However, even as I dressed Jason I couldn't resist casting an appraising glance in the bottom's direction. Even after a week of forced disuse he looked to be well-used but not abused. Perfect!

(Oh, you may be wondering why I keep on referring to Erik's ass as a hole when my full title is the Cunt Inspector. That's just a thing of mine - I prefer to make that judgement for myself. A hole is just a hole until I've confirmed for myself that it really is a cunt. I had high hopes, but...)

I then lathered my hands with lube and tenderly told Erik to relax, that this was all going to be fun. Now it was time to get to work...

The first test was a measure of receptiveness and clutch. Basically how quickly Erik could take my hands from a standing start with only lube and determination to help. Now, I know the majority of this test rode on the twin axis of my abilities as a top and how much of a connection we had as sexual partners. But all that was factored into my methodology, not least as this was the main reason why I didn't run the protocol on guys I didn't find attractive, nor on guys who don't find me desirable. It was simply impossible. There had to be a connection on some level otherwise it didn't work.

I took charge, a gentle drenching to lubricate the slot and then the application of my teasing fingers to open Erik up. I always took this moment as fast (or as slow) as the receptiveness of the hole splayed out in front of me could manage. I've lost count of the number of guys I've fisted in my life, but all that action has made me an excellent judge of pace...

In this case, I was pleasantly surprised. My hand was soon gliding inside, even after Erik's week of disuse. When I reviewed the tapes later I was amazed to see how quickly he'd taken me - with ease - in almost record time for the protocol. But just how hungry we he really? Time to find out for sure.

The second test was `time to take a clenched fist'. Obviously, this had to follow on immediately from the first test and without any toys or external devices being involved. No, just lust and Erik's natural abilities.

However, it was always down to me as judge of when I thought the bottom was ready. That perfect moment when a hand could migrate from cone to a clenched fist and it could enter without force or resistance. This wasn't about pop, no, my punch had to sink and slide in as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Basically, it was all a question of just how big and receptive Erik really was.

I could feel Jason effortlessly hovering in the background, delighting in having a front row seat at Erik's test. I beckoned my assistant over, asking him to squeeze some lube on to my fists to keep friction at bay. The amount of lube was actually pretty important and had to be fairly judged. To give the protocol additional rigour the container of lube was hooked up to a digital scale so it could measure exactly how much fluid was used to open Erik up to the right point. That meant every drop was precious and couldn't be wasted. Jason immediately got it and paced himself. I couldn't deny how useful having a lube bunny was though (and Erik definitely seemed to be enjoying my assistant's continued presence too).

The initial signals were all good. Erik had excellent clutch control and was able to pulsate his hole around my wrist as I explored deeper, slowly coring and reaming him out. At every gentle twist of my hand I could sense he could take more and more, although I was slightly surprised that his pussy seemed to be slightly more taut at the top than the bottom. His pussy lips - slowly getting puffy in response to my attention - seemed to reflect that too.

I put those thoughts aside and continued onwards. It was Erik's receptive eyes that really did the deed though. He called me on. The tight bondage holding him in place, unable to escape, just taking everything I could give him... just seconds later my hand had naturally formed its fist and was hitting the target. God it felt so good to be punching this hole - one of the absolute perks of my job! I was so turned on that I couldn't help laying in a couple of extra punches for good measure. Whoever got to play with this cunt on a regular basis were lucky guys!

(There, I've said it! I was proud to call this hole a cunt and I told Erik as much. Communication - as you'll read in so many of my case studies - is a powerful tool that is so often overlooked. Reassurance, deliverance and motivation: the holy trinity of verbal play.)

Now that Erik was opened up it was time for the 3rd test. This was in two parts: girth and then depth. However, for the first part, I'd decided in advance that I was going to let Jason take control. This - apron aside - was essentially his interview for the elevation of his role from receptionist to assistant. I had high hopes, and Jason's confidence as he wheeled over a giant rack of dildos told me it was well placed.

Each toy was of the same design: a torpedo with a very gentle helmet and tapered shaft. It was the kind of toy that makes your hole go pop, your eyes go wide and then easily slides in to hit home. However, that wasn't the important thing. No, it was that each toy was the same height and overall shape, just ever increasing in size.

It had been quite a job to make the necessary moulds but the resulting toys were quite a sight to behold. Each one was only 9" high but they ranged in width from an easy 1" to a truly punishing 6" wide. Of course, our aim wasn't to actually stretch here, more to find Erik's natural limits and then move onto the depth test.

I couldn't deny that the toys were an intimidating sight though. That meant I was impressed at how quickly Jason stepped in to reassure and explain this part of the protocol. That he would work through each toy, one by one. The only set condition was that Erik had to be able to take 10 full strokes in a row. Simple, right? But also the toy had to be taken to the base within 1 minute of it touching his pussy. If he didn't, this part of the test would be over.

Ready?' Jason asked. He then looked deeply into Erik's eyes and said the clincher. I know you're going to make me proud.' It really was a masterful move. My assistant may have been young but his versatility and fisting experience were now on full display. Having a big dick and a big hole really did help in this job.

He started off with an easy 2 incher, ably judging that it was a good starting point after I'd got things going so well. Of course, it went in delightfully smooth and I bet it barely touched the sides. 10 strokes and he was onto the next, a quarter inch increment up. Now that may not sound like a large increase but by the time you get up to the big numbers every millimetre matters.

However, we were a long way off from that and Jason methodically worked through the toys gracefully and yet with real passion. It was truly obscene just how wide he was able to go with Erik before it took longer than a minute for a toy to be inserted. (Thankfully, the cameras and sensors automatically tracked all of this and were programmed to flash amber to signal when the test was over.) By the end all three of us were delighted, Erik almost panting in the heat. A full, fat 4" of girth. That definitely gave us something to work with!

I also took a deep-seated pleasure in just how messed up with lube Jason's apron had become - he really had put his back into it! - but now it was my turn again. I bought over the next rack of toys for the depth challenge.

Out of the two parts of this test, depth was always more difficult to measure but that didn't mean it was impossible. I used a much longer version of the same design as before, yet this time made out of a much softer and more supple silicone.

Each one was 18" in length - a satisfactory measure for the protocol - but they also increased in girth in the same increments as before. Why not just measure both at the same time? Well, I've often found that bottoms have a gift in one particular area - either deep or wide - but rarely both. That meant I rolled the test right back and started with just 1" wide.

I was happy to see Erik gobbling it right up and taking the first 18" in one slide. So I kept on going, never using a toy twice, Jason handing me the next size up as needed. Each dildo was returned to the rack, the tide mark showing perfectly just how deep Erik had been able to take it.

By now I could tell we were onto to a real master cunt - he was able to take 18" deep at a full 2.5" wide. What's that in real terms? 3/4 quarters of the way up a forearm? Damn fine pussy if you ask me.

The fourth test was simple in comparison and was actually more a moment to check-in. How was this cunt looking? How had it held up? All the cameras in the room aligned again on Erik's pussy as I told him to gape, push and bloom for me.

Of course, it was also insightful for me to stand back and examine it for myself. And Jason too. I quietly asked his opinion and he told it straight. My fists and then the toys had really done some work and had created a wonderful state of disrepair. A great gape, nice rose and some fat, puffy pussy lips. However, he saw - as I did too - a slightly distinctive shape. That muscle imbalance I'd felt earlier? Well, it was shown in those pussy flaps: big and juicy to the sides and the bottom, but strangely absent at the top. We whispered this to each other, there was no point sharing our evaluation with Erik just yet, not until the protocol was complete.

The 5th test I always felt was the mark of a true pussy: how many punches it could take.

Obviously I've had my fair number of goes experimenting with this particular test. The problem is that it's such a difficult one to measure. Do you set a goal and then go for it together? Say 100? But what happens if the subject can actually take more? Do you start from the beginning again? And besides, it can be comparatively easy to take 200 punches if done slow enough.

That's why I used a relatively simple metric: how many punches in 5 minutes. I would use all my good judgement (built over many years of using pussy) to vary my pace depending on exactly what I thought Erik could take. If his cunt revealed it could take 1 punch every 5 seconds, well... that's what he got. However, if he could take more vigorous effort and a faster rep count, well... good game!

I'm very proud to say Erik took 218 in 5 minutes with ease, meaning he was building up to a very healthy score.

Despite the protocol being almost officially over, I couldn't help but let Jason have a go too (although I've got to confess that was more because I wanted to see his style and technique more than I needed to give Erik any more work).

My god, Jason was a powerhouse. Did he have something to prove? He sure did and he wasn't going to let Erik's hole forget it. He punched with his entire body, lube spraying across the room, alternating full punches from either side. It was epic to witness, though I knew I was going to have to temper Jason's enthusiasm if he was going to be my assistant. It was a lot of fist to lay in one hole on what was just a test of ability and not a full punch out.

The 6th and final test was another photo scan.

After all we'd done, what shape of cunt had been formed? A trench, slot, oval or round? How thick was the muscle ring surrounding it? How big were the lips and cunt flaps? I was impressed by what I saw - big, velvety folds of a great rosebud - though just as we'd identified earlier it did look a little skew whiff. In fact, because of that muscular imbalance, Erik's pussy lips looked exactly like a horseshoe. Of course, having a cunt that shape is no barrier to being a great fist bottom, but Erik did say he wanted to have the perfect pussy...

Two days after running the protocol, Erik was back to hear my findings. He seemed eager to formally begin his journey to having the perfect pussy although he still looked slightly ragged from the intense procedure.

I started out by saying how much I - well, we - had enjoyed playing with him. My assistant Jason (now officially promoted) was standing behind my desk and nodded in happy agreement. I was able to say with absolute confidence that any fister would be lucky to use his hole.

What came next was tougher though. Despite my long experience I'd been unsure about my recommendation and had to have a long conversation with Jason to dispel my doubts. After all, he'd seen it first-hand too and had his own experience of cunt to weigh in.

Part of me had wanted to tell Erik that actually there was very little to be done here. After all, he was pretty perfect already. Excellent scores on speed to entry, depth and punching. Honestly, good all round.

However, my assistant had pushed me forward. I could tell already he was going to be an aggressive fucker. Chasing profit and pussy. He was quick to ask why I was holding back when considering what we could do for Erik. Surely this was a clear cut case of giving someone what they wanted?

I laughed, both at his eagerness but also his lack of awareness of the task at hand. Despite his natural abilities and aptitude, I'm not sure he really knew what he was saying. His muscles, big dick and big, capable pussy meant he wasn't all that empathic (yet). He'd had it easy, giving him only one view of the world. If he was going to be my assistant then it was time to change all that.

`Why do you think Erik came to me?' I asked.

Jason looked confused. `Because he wants a perfect pussy?' he replied, hesitatingly, like a student asking a teacher whether the question really was that easy.

`No man, what he wants is confidence! Don't you remember just how slickly we fisted his cunt? Jesus, who could ask for anything more in a pussy?!'

I could feel Jason flexing his arms, subconsciously thinking that his muscles and big dick were his way out of most problems. Had I made a mistake in wanting to promote him?

Oh bitch, please' I declared. Not everyone loves those muscles of yours. Or those sow teats you've made out of your nipples. Or that monster bulge! Some people like regular shaped guys, or bears, cubs, huskies, twinks.'

Of course, Jason knew all of this. But it was time that he realised what it actually meant when applied to real life.

I told my assistant that Erik - despite his gorgeous body - wanted to find his purpose in life through the capabilities of his hole. And exactly what he wanted to project to the world. A sly grin traveled across Jason's face. I could tell he was learning fast.

`So, we're going to focus on his only flaw? That horseshoe shaped cunt? And use that to make him better?'

`Exactly,' I replied.

And that bought me back to the room and what we were here to discover. Just how far did Eric want to go? I presented the photographic evidence and clinically broke it down. He had a great pussy but it did have a distinctive look. Unique almost. You can see it here I said, gesturing to the iPad gallery I was holding out to him.

I could tell it was the most graphic presentation of his cunt he'd ever seen. Sure, everyone has their profile pics, but the cameras in my playroom had captured his hole in exquisite detail. I think he was stunned to see it so obscenely laid out.

A juicy and proudly mutilated hole, thickly drenched in lube. A tempting rosebud whose red folds only made you want to make it bigger, all surrounded by impressively thick and puffy cunt flaps. However, it wasn't a perfect ring of muscle. No, it was less developed at the top but fat at the sides and to the bottom. As I say, a horseshoe.

Of course, Erik must have known this - or at least suspected it - about his pussy for a while. Maybe he'd never seen it as a problem before? Maybe it wasn't really a problem at all? However, it was my job to capitalise on that.

I saw doubt cross his mind and I rapidly jumped in to remind him of our first conversation. What had he wanted? The perfect pussy, he replied. And how did he define that? He wasn't quite sure, just better than what he was now...

`Is this better?' I asked. I swiped through a gallery of other holes (including some of his favourite porn stars) and pointed out the difference. Horseshoe vs ring. Horseshoe vs oval. Horseshoe vs trench. It was a barrage of pornography designed to make Erik's next move inevitable.

Of course, as we viewed the gallery both Jason and I gave differing commentaries. My assistant's remarks were more like sound effects: oh man, nice pussy!' and will you have a look at that one, sweet!' and (possibly the most telling) man, if your pussy was like that today I'd dive in right now!'. Mine were more serious though: that must have taken some serious work' and `that's not natural, that's been manufactured' and (perhaps most simply) 'goals'.

Presented with all the evidence, Erik was quick to agree, saying he wanted a perfect ring of muscle surrounding his rosebud more than anything else in the world. Was it possible?

I gently inclined my head. `It's going to take a lot of work, both on your part and ours. Are you ready for that kind of effort?' I asked.

(Of course, this was a lie. I already knew exactly what the solution was and - although it was going to take some time to create - that was nothing compared to the struggle Erik was going to have to put in).

He said yes, though I pushed much harder. I would only proceed if he would take my solution without question or hesitation. He had to agree to stay the course until he had the perfect pussy. Otherwise it simply wasn't worth my time.

Of course, he agreed. By now he didn't have a choice.

As Erik left, Jason turned to me and asked how I was going to do it. I looked him in the eye and said it straight.

`We're here to take people past their limits, to rebuild them. It's going to be fucking intense!' I then lead him to my workshop and picked up a rosebud cylinder. I threw it to him and said this would be the secret.

The nice thing about Jason was that when he didn't know something, he isn't frightened to ask. Remember, he'd gained his cunt through manual labour - hands and toys - not mechanical aids. His education was about to step up a gear.

I told him that it was a vacuum cylinder. That he'd probably seen them for pumping cocks, but this one was for your arse. Oh yeah, your hole can be pumped too. However, this one was different though: a rosebud pump.

It was a short and squat cylinder about 4" long with an open end, an end that a 1" thick wide acrylic core projected a few inches out. That internal core was designed to slide into a hole whilst the surrounding thick outer walls of the cylinder would sit nice and tight around the cunt opening. It created a vacuum once under pressure, pulling the cunt outwards. Well, the cunt lips in particular...

As Jason turned it over in his hands I could tell he was oozing precum though his shorts again. His bulge was always big but now it was obscene.

`So, this is the secret,' he declared.

Not quite.

That's just a generic pump, anyone could give Erik one of those. No, what we need to do is look at the shape of Erik's pussy and design a custom cylinder that exactly matches his needs.

I explained to Jason that - given all the client's measurements we already had from my camera's built-in Lidar sensors - I could custom design a specially shaped vacuum cylinder for his rose. Something that would unequally distribute the pressure around his hole; forcing the main focus of the vacuum to be on Erik's `undeveloped' parts.

Of course, it would also have the effect of dramatically developing the resting pussy lips of his entire cunt, but the important thing was that it would over-develop the missing top ring and bring everything into alignment. Of course, his hole would now have permanent cunt lips but that was just part of his pussy evolution. That was what Erik wanted, right?

Jason was hanging on my every word. I knew exactly what he was going to say next.

`Can I try it out?' he asked.

Of course I nodded and said yes. Who was I to get in the way of my assistant's education? He had to understand these things first hand, right? He passed the cylinder back to me and in seconds he'd stripped off his shorts and was lying, legs spread, on a nearby work bench. This was one of the things I liked about him, he always was an instinctive fuck. But measured. He only did what was necessary - carefully considered, like it had gone through his mind in seconds what the outcomes and implications were. And, of course, he was prepped, his thick dick languidly leaning to one side and his hole clean and ready.

I grabbed some lube - of course it's always on hand in my joint - and greased the central core and the outer edges. It slide inside Jason with ease. An evil grin lit up his face and I've got to say the clear acrylic looked great nestled between his arse cheeks. Such a tremendous backside! I then attached the hand pump, mashed the cylinder against his hole to get a tight seal, and then started pulling the trigger.

Instantaneously Jason's eyes rolled back as he felt suction on his cunt for the first time in his life.

See?' I said. It's pulling your cunt flaps out around the central core. Hot, right?' I settled the pressure at a safe PSI and put the pump down. I then told Jason that the seal was so strong that the cylinder will stay on his arse until released. Pretty insane, yes?

`You've got that right! Man, it feels like I'm being turned out and it's only been on for seconds. How long do people do this for?' Jason asked.

`Well, the pros can do it in spells of 15 to 30 minutes' I replied. 'The pressure matters, as does cycling between lows and highs. Don't want to over burden the pussy and move too fast.'

`Will you show me what I look like' he asked? I picked up my phone and videoed his blossoming cunt from all sides. I then handed it to Jason to see for himself.

Despite the sweat on his brow when he saw the video image his dick oozed another fat dollop of precum. He looked at his thick ring of (I've got to say, rather perfect) distended flesh and delighted at what he saw. `Fucking hell, that's hot! It's almost enough to make up for the feeling! God does my cunt feel intense right now'.

I laughed, I knew for myself just how painful it could be, though the idea of being able to see your pussy in real-time did give me an idea...

Demonstration over, I smiled and pleased the air pressure. Jason gave out a deep sigh as I pulled the cylinder away from his hole - gorgeous - and he immediately swung a hand back to feel the damage for his himself. He delighted in fingering his puffed out pussy lips. Now he knew just what one of these devices could do.

Fucking hell, that's stunning!' he said as he got down from the bench. I'm definitely going to be using one of those again! Are you sure Erik's going to be able to follow through with it though? Just how much time is he going to have to spend with that attached to his cunt to make a difference?! Even 5 minutes was fucking tough for me.'

I went onto explain that was exactly the level of service that people pay for. I told Jason that I would make sure to introduce a level of control that meant Erik couldn't back out. And that I would use all the measurements captured by the cameras to design the perfect cylinder to change our client's pussy forever. I ended by saying that determination always counts...

A fortnight later and Erik was back in front of me, eager and excited to find out what I'd devised for him. I had it all ready, but I took care to remind him that everything I'd designed was for his benefit and would help him meet his goals. Positive reinforcement is always useful, and I told him that I was sure - with his abilities and desires - that he would come to love this.

I then held forth on just how amazing it was going to be for him to have the perfect pussy. The toast of the town, its looks, abilities and performance unrivalled. Every bottom's wet dream. Something unattainable... until now.

You have to remember just how much fisting ruled this guy's life. That he really wanted this. My carefully chosen words made him giddy with excitement, but I also gently reminded him that he couldn't back out. A promise was a promise.

Erik enthusiastically nodded his head in agreement, though of course at this point he had no idea what I had planned... not least as Jason had been right to be worried about the intensity of a hand pump based solution.

Having your cunt ring pulled out could be a great feeling, and we all know that some guys get totally addicted to pumping their cock on a regular basis. Of course, it depends on how you define regular'. To make the kind of permanent changes we were talking about here was going to need way more than just regular' pump sessions. Erik was going to have to put some real effort in. So much so that he might actually come to love it... but bridging that gap and making it a habit was going to take a while though.

That meant I'd had to create a truly `connected' solution with more than one moving part. I started off by leading Erik to the medical side of my consultation room and getting him to strip. I then handed him a very special cock ring of my own invention to wear. It was one I'd designed a couple of years ago to help with scenarios just like this. It was made out of thick, heavy stainless steel and came in two halves - two semi-circles that wrapped seamlessly around the cock. It looked just like those magnetic ones that sex-shops sell, except this was very, very different.

I casually explained I wanted him to wear it as it would help with his programme. A normal man would have questioned what on earth wearing a cock-ring had to do with the development of his ass, but Erik was so fired up that he would have done anything at this point.

The two halves magnetically clicked into place and then came a locking noise that Erik was too excited to notice. The device was far more sophisticated than looked from the outside. It would be far too late before he realised that the device couldn't be removed without my help. Help I definitely wouldn't be giving until the program was over and we'd completed our goals.

It was then I unveiled the device I'd made specially for him. I whipped the fabric covering of the two-foot square box that had been sitting on the floor next to the medical bench.

On first inspection it looked almost like a commode or rim-chair, except the internal mechanics were heavily disguised by the black sides.

I directed him to sit down on the open seat, which he willingly did. Moments later, my specially crafted rosebud cylinder rose from the inside, before finding and locking onto his pussy. (I did say that electronics and guidance systems were another one of my specialities, right?) The machine had automatically lubed the cylinder and central core so it could make that all important airtight seal, which it did without hesitation. An electric motor hummed into action and pumped the air out of the cylinder and increased the pressure.

It had an immediate effect and I could see Erik was deeply surprised by the suction on his pussy. His eyes went wide and he instinctively tried to pull himself off the box. Of course, I gently pushed him back down and told him how it was going to work. That I'd created this special vacuum device to perfectly draw out the muscles in the top half of his pussy. That this was the only way we could create what he wanted...

`Oh wow, I can really feel it' Erik said, his eyes slightly watering.

`No pain, no gain' I smiled back.

Erik did his best to be resolute, through the intensity of feelings mainlining to his cunt was more than enough to dim his initial enthusiasm. That motor really could suck!

'How long do I have to do this for?' he asked. I swiftly told him an hour. Twice a day.

`Fucking hell!' he cried out, immediately trying to pull away from the chair and cylinder. That was something that really wasn't advisable when your cunt is being pumped. And not least when you're wearing one of my special cock-rings. It used it's in-built proximity sensors to detect that Erik was trying to escape and it immediately fired a high-voltage pulse through the bottom's dick and balls. The shock was so great that Erik fell right back down on the chair, barely able to make a noise and allowing the pump to get back to work.

`Oh, don't be such a pussy, you wanted this. Right?'

Before he could answer I continued my explanation. That the cock ring - the one he'd so willingly put on - was there to keep him honest. If he didn't practice twice a day then the shocks would get stronger and stronger. Oh, and don't think that Erik could run out the charge on that fucker! He was sitting on an induction charging loop that filled up the batteries on a constant basis. It would never run out.

Erik's eyes were so anguished that I threw him a favour, the idea that Jason had planted in my head. I handed over an iPhone that was connected to the box and was showing a live-stream of his pussy pump. And a countdown timer of how long he had to go (and how long till the next session).

The camera I'd carefully added to the device gave Erik a front-row seat. He looked at the screen and I could see he was delighted. The pain was all worth it! It showed his pussy blooming and filling the gap between the central core and the acrylic wall. It looked magnificent! So wrong and yet so right!

I then tapped an icon on the screen and it flipped, showing he could also dual-screen porn as he watched his pussy bloom. I've got to say it was genius touch.

I looked at the total imbalance of his emotions. Was he high at the thought of having the perfect pussy? Delirious at the sight of his muscle walls blooming? Or horny at the hardcore fist action playing out on his screen?

I left him to to it, telling him to watch the timer. As soon as it was done he'd be released, and then I'd arranged to have the unit fast-shipped to his house. I also casually said that if he didn't keep up with the program - twice a day for the next 3 months - well, let's just say his cock would be fried.

But hey, you've got to make sacrifices to get the perfect pussy!

Last I heard, Erik had won `Best Cunt of the Year' award. Twice.

Oh wait, you haven't heard of that? Think of it as like the GayVN awards but only for people really in the know. None of that tame stuff like Best Fetish Sex Scene' or Favourite Cock'. No, these awards are for people that really mean it. Like the Oscars but turbo-charged: Best Hole-In-1 Fist Insertion, Best Surprise Double, Best Cunt-Jack, Best Wrecked Pussy That's Never Coming Back and, of course, my personal favourite, Best Blowout.

Each award was voted on by both porn-professionals and the public. All underground of course. Maybe one day you'll be invited to participate?

Until then, I want you to know that I really helped Erik go the distance. He can now bloom on demand, hell, even prolapse. His muscle ring is total perfection, an awesome circle of evenly puffed out flesh. To look at it is to want to fist!

I'd say that's a job well done...

Next: the 2nd case study: the perfect fists