Facial torment by the professor felt like mere play. But after repeated enemas and being forced to expel massive amounts of feces, the humiliation of defecation play began transforming into a refined masochistic pleasure. The professor carefully extracted fecal matter from my anus using a speculum. As a woman, this was unbearable—utterly degrading. He then picked up the lump of my own feces and reinserted it back into my anus, sealing it shut with my own waste. I felt so ashamed I thought I would go insane. Yet within my masochistic heart, that very humiliation morphed into intense arousal. "Professor... I feel myself sinking deeper and deeper," I whispered. Uttering such words only intensified the dark, profound depths of my masochistic sensitivity. The professor plunged his fingers deep into my shit-covered anus. "Ah, Professor, please don't put your fingers in my ass!" I pleaded, but he responded by inserting even more fingers, penetrating deeper until he performed full anal fisting. "My ass is going to rip open—no, stop, stop!" I screamed. In truth, my anus was an incredibly sensitive erogenous zone. As anal fisting continued, waves of new pleasure flooded my brain, enveloping my mind and body in overwhelming liberation.