Anathema entered an almost meditative state for a long moment. The soothing jets of the tub. The stiff rod pulsing between her tits. The spray of spunk decorating her face like a wedding cake. The smooth, tight backside clinging and twitching around her cock. The deep sensation of being desired, given a purpose, then used -- the perfect feeling of a job well done that came from being a natural submissive.<br/><br/>It was all so much, so much that it entered Ana into a state not unlike that of an artist when she enters a creative frenzy. A state of inner inspiration so pure and so intense that it changed the way she thought and felt in a permanent fashion. Never had anything been so amazing as to shatter the foundations of Anathema's very psyche. The catatonic state she had entered last time had only broken her down, readied her for this moment of true peace.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>