TITLE    : Something Different
STORYID  : something-different-11
SUMMARY  : He was always ready to experiment with something different.
AUTHOR   : Cal Y. Pygia@lit
DATE     : 2014-02-21
CATEGORY : taboo-sex-stories
FLAGS    : 
TAGS     : |feminization|anal|gay|incest|fetish|strapon dildo|dildo|mistress|sister|


Tom bent forward, peering into the banana-yellow Ford's interior. Just as he'd anticipated, he saw me, his younger sister, Bev, in a lip lock with my latest boy toy Brian. They way our faces were stuck together, we could have had Super Glue on our lips. Tom didn't overlook Brian's hand under his sister's blouse and, no doubt, my bra, although he couldn't blame Brian for copping a feel; I have great tits for an eighteen-year-old. Still, he thought he'd better pry us apart before things got any further out of hand. He doubted our parents wanted to become grandparents quite yet. "Strawberry!" he cried.

Brian and I threw ourselves apart, both of us shocked and embarrassed. Our faces were crimson.

Tom repressed the urge to laugh. "Hey, Bri," he greeted the other boy.

Brian avoided his gaze. "Uh, hello, Tom. Didn't know you were there, man."

He ignored the comment, looking past Brian, at me. Hands scrambling, I was frantically adjusting my bra and blouse. "You'd better get home, Berry," he warned me. "Mom and Dad are going to start worrying."

He was right, I knew. I'd told Mom and Dad that I was going to the mall, but that had been three six hours ago, Usually, even I didn't shop that long. I was eighteen and, legally, an adult--but a daughter was always a child to her parents, I'd learned, no matter how old she became.

"Okay, Tom," I said. "Now, could you leave us alone for God's sake?"

"If you promise to go home. Right now."

"Okay, okay."

He grinned. "See you, Bri," he said, before leaving us lovebirds to ourselves.

"Why does he call you 'Strawberry,' Bev?" Brian asked me after my brother was gone.

I rolled my eyes. "It's just a nickname he's called me since I was ten."

"But why 'Strawberry'?" Brian persisted.

I blushed. "I guess he liked the sound of the word," she answered, "or maybe because, when I was younger, I had strawberry-blonde hair."

"Yeah," he quipped, "because you hadn't discovered peroxide yet."

He tried to kiss me, again, as he held my breast, but I removed his hand. "I really do have to get home, Brian," I declared.

"Okay," he said, "Strawberry."

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? Your brother does."

"He may; you don't."

"Why not?" Brian repeated.

"Because I said so. Now, take me home."

#

"So, how was your date with Big Bri?" Tom asked when I entered the living room. Using the remote control, he switched off the TV set, giving me his undivided attention.

"Fine," I replied, "until you showed up."

"So how far as he gotten? Second base?"

I didn't respond.

"Third?"

"None of your business."

"Home run?"

"Creep."

"He scored?" Tom asked, his tone incredulous. "Brian?"

"No, he did not 'score,' as if it were any of your business."

"So Big Bri is still a virgin." Tom picked up the remote, to turn the set on again. It didn't seem that his sister had anything interesting enough to relate to him that warranted a disruption of Dumbasses on Tape.

#

Brian hadn't scored yet, I thought, after I'd entered the sanctuary of my bedroom, locking the door behind me, and sprawled upon my canopy bed, flipping idly through a gossip magazine concerned with teen idols. The Biebs featured prominently on the front cover. Would he "do time" for driving under the influence of alcohol? Would President Obama repeal his green card and send him back to Canada, as a poor role model for America's youth and a danger to society in general? I hoped not. I couldn't stand Justin. He was a total jerk. But he was kind of cute. If I ever had the chance--well, a girl could dream, couldn't she?

As far as Brian was concerned, though, I was undecided as to whether I'd let him go all the way with me. He was cute, too, but he was more than a little immature. In my experience, though, most young men--including my brother--are childish in many ways. Brian was a bit of a geek, too, and a momma's boy. At nineteen, he still collected superhero comic books and couldn't play enough video games, and, despite his image of himself as a ladies' man, he was about as clumsy as he was inexperienced. A girl could always tell how many time a guy had been with girls by how adept he was at unfastening her bra. Brain was all thumbs. But he was cute. I had to give him that. So, maybe. . . .

I put aside the teen idol magazine and popped a pornographic disc into my DVD player, which had been a birthday present from Mom and Dad--the DVD player, not the porn--and watched a couple of men have at it. I liked to watch men have sex. I liked to watch women have sex, too, or men and women, or men and "shemales," or shemales and women, or shemales and other shemales; I wasn't particular: it was all good. But I especially enjoyed watching one young, muscular man submit to taking another lean, muscular man's thick, hard cock up his firm, compact ass. Watching a man thrust deep and hard into another guy's ass always drenched me. This time was no different, and, within minutes, I'd wet not only myself but my bed. Someday, I'd make a would-be lover prove his "love" for me by taking another guy's cock up his ass while I watched. From Brian's vague comments, I understood (but pretended not to) that he had a fetish for anal sex and that he'd like to try it with me if I thought I might like to "experiment" with "something different." I chuckled. I'd been on the receiving end of anal sex many times, but it might be fun, indeed, to turn the tables on Brian and see how he liked taking a prick up his ass. I imagined Brian, with Tom's dick buried in his bottom, the former's ass cheeks bouncing and flattening before my brother's pounding pubes, and I found my cunt awash, again, in its own juices, as I climaxed again--and again. 

Whew! I thought, grinning. Sex is exhausting!

Inspired by the thoughts of two guys doing it to each other, I ejected my previous DVD, replacing it with All Anal, All the Time, which contained several scenes of all-male threeways. One such scene showed one man fucking another while a third attacked his own ass from behind. It was incredible. As I watched, my fingers stroking the hard bud of my clit within the moist folds of my sex, I imagined that it was Tom who fucked Brian--and it was I who fucked my brother, using the massive latex strap-on I'd bought recently, just in case.

#

Instead of the actors, I imagined Tom and Brian, in their places, joining them, in my imagination, as the DVD played.

Brian repositioned himself on the bed, resting his weight upon his elbows and knees. His ass was high in the air, and his legs were parted wide. Between his thighs, below the tiny, puckered dimple of his asshole, I could see Brian's balls, hanging like the clapper of a bell. Ask not for whom the bell tolls, I thought; it tolls for thee. As Tom knelt behind Brian, pointing his erection into the cleavage of Brian's sleek ass, I strapped on my dildo--a 12-inch monster as thick as my wrist--and took my place on the crowded bed, not kneeling, nut squatting. My position, was awkward, and, once the action began, it would be difficult to maintain on a mattress that dipped and rolled, but it afforded me the ability to penetrate my brother to the greatest extent possible; I'd be able to drive the entire foot of my massive artificial cock through his gaping anus, deep into his rectum. Doing so was well worth the discomfort and the effort of maintaining my footing while I pounded the boy, my brother, who fucked Brian.

Brian squirmed, grunting, as Tom eased his cock through his conquest's tight orifice, and my brother did the same as I slid the tip of my latex organ into his tiny asshole. Holding my erection in my fist, I guided it between the silken cheeks of my brother's firm, compact buttocks. The dildo's rubber glans pressed against the ring of his anus. Overcoming the resistance of my brother's tight, round muscle, I continued to drive my prick forward, through the tight sphincter and deep into his ass, stopping only when my lower belly was hunched over his bottom and my pubes and balls shoved against his lower ass cheeks and perineum.

Meanwhile, Tom fed another inch, and then another, into Brian's bottom. We'd lubricated our respective members well, and the slick pricks penetrated their respective asses fairly readily, although not without some protest on the parts of the young men who endured the organs' invasions.

Tom gasped. "Your cock is so big!" he cried. "I feel like you're going to split me in half!"

I slapped his ass. "Take it like a man, you pussy!"

I eased back, and then shoved the monster cock back through my brother's anus. When my balls slammed into his perineum, I again pulled out, leaving only the glans inside his asshole, and plunged home again, ramming my thick, hard prick as far as possible into Tom's bowels. Back and forth through his gaping anus, I pumped my prick with greater speed and force until I was fucking my brother with a passion that bordered upon violence. Tom, rocked beneath my every advance, gasped and moaned, squirming beneath me as his buttocks flattened and rebounded with every stroke. I fucked my brother as if he were a slut or a whore, and, I could tell, he loved it.

As I fucked Tom, he buggered Brian. However, the intensity with which my brother drove his prick back and forth through Brian's anus, plunging it repeatedly into Brian's impaled bottom precluded the longevity of their intercourse. Within mere minutes of his having introduced his cock into Brian's ass, Tom was spurting his seed. As the semen erupted from his balls, Tom jerked his cock free, firing the warm, thick, white rounds of ejaculate over Brian's creamy, smooth buttocks and along his sculpted back.

Spent and exhausted, I withdrew my huge, glistening cock from my brother's bowels and sat back, on the mattress, watching as Brian fell forward, on his belly, Tom, collapsing atop him, my brother's cock riding the semen-slick furrow between Brian's cum-splattered buttocks.

The words "The End" appeared on the TV screen as this segment of the film ended, and Tom and Brian became, once again, the actors who'd enjoyed themselves for their viewers' benefit.

Needless to say, my cunt was drenched, and I had not two, but three additional orgasms!

I'd also decided that Brian would have my ass, just as he'd hinted (several times now) he wanted. Maybe, if I decided to let him be my boyfriend, I'd make him repay the favor, eventually, with him on the receiving end of my strap-on--or, maybe, another man's flesh-and-blood cock.

#

So, a few days later--I act fast when I've made up my mind about something--Brian and I are at it again, this time thirty miles north of town, at the end of a dead-end gravel road that doesn't appear on road maps and is unknown even to most local motorists.

We'd stepped out of the car and found a suitable place, not far off the road, screened by sage and sycamore trees. I'd already removed my clothes and, sitting naked, I watched Brian take off his garb: Stetson hat, plaid shirt, jeans, socks, cowboy boots, and briefs. His cock was so stiff that it looked painful. Apparently, he didn't believe in wasting any time, either.

I toyed with the idea of telling him, right up front, what I'd demand in return for allowing him to butt-fuck me--my return of the favor, using my latex cock in place of his by-comparison miniscule, although genuine, prick--but I decided it would be more rewarding--to me--if I sprang it on him the next time he mentioned "experimenting" with "something different." It'd be "different," all right, I thought. He'd get to see what it was like to be on the receiving end of a cock much longer, thicker, harder, and more indefatigable than his own!

First things, first, though: to hook him, I had to let him fuck me in the ass; later, I'd reel him in, and, then, it would be his ass that got fucked.

Wen he'd applied lubricant to his stiff-standing prick and I had done the same to my asshole, I knelt upon the ground, atop thick grass and a blanket of leaves, dropped forward, onto my palms, spread my legs, and waited, my back arched and my defenseless ass high in the air.

Brian knelt behind me. I could feel the smooth-firm glans of his penis bob against the cheeks of my ass. Impatient to begin, I decided to help him out. Taking his prick in my fist, I guided the tip of his erection between my buttocks, pressing the glans against my anus. There, his cock met stout resistance, and he flailed about, like a hooked fish, trying to ram his thing into me. I wriggled my hips as he jabbed his cock head more firmly, more resolutely, into the dimple between my cheeks, and I felt the ring of sphincter muscle expand, opening, to accept his member. I gasped, feeling Brian's thick, long cock slide through my asshole.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Sure, honey. Fill my ass with your big, hard cock."

He'd managed to insert a couple of inches. Now, he pushed another couple of inches of his manhood through my asshole, watching the thick column of rigid flesh vanish within my wide-stretched anus. I squirmed, biting my lower lip.

"You okay?" he asked again.

"Yes. Stop asking. I'll let you know if there's a problem."

"Just trying to be considerate."

"I know, and I appreciate it, but asking me if I'm all right every two or three seconds--or every two or three inches--tends to break the mood."

"Okay, sorry." He slid another two inches of cock into my behind. Pausing, he let me enjoy the sensation of being crammed full of his prick as it stretched my asshole to many times its normal size.

"It's amazing how you can take my nine inches up your tight little ass or, for that matter, how my monster cock could even fit through your snug asshole. I guess girls are like that, though. You might look small and helpless, but--a"

"Would you stop with the philosophizing and fuck me, already?" I demanded, not in the mood to hear his sexist bullshit.

"Sure thing, Bev." Rearing back to let his cock slide back through my asshole, Brian plunged home, driving his thick prick deep my rectum.

"Ahhh!" I moaned.

Brian jerked his cock back down the smooth tunnel of my bowels. With just the glans remaining inside my asshole, he drove his organ again into my depths. Again and again, he repeated this same action, increasing the tempo and the force of his thrusts. My buttocks jiggled and swayed, as did my breasts. My ass cheeks flattened before his every lunging thrust into my ass and bounced back with his every momentary retreat. 

"Uhhh!" I groaned.

"Ah, the language of love"! he quipped, much to my annoyance, as he slammed his prick through my asshole, and I moaned again.

"Speak to me, darling!" he said, plunging his cock again into my bowels.

"Uhhh!" I'd never have believed that Brian could fuck like this! Either he wasn't at all the inexperienced geek he'd pretended to be, or he'd watched a few million heterosexual versions of All Anal, All the Time; he was that good.

His cock became a piston, pumping hard and fast within the cylinder of my rectum. The more I moaned and groaned, the more I gasped and sighed, the more I whimpered and mewled, the harder and faster he lunged and plunged, thrusting and jerking his cock inside my gaping anus. My slight frame was rocked hard before his thrusts, and my tits jiggled and bounced, just as the soft, but firm, smooth cushions of my ass flattened and sprang back with each momentary assault and retreat of his cock within my bowels.

"Uhhh!"

Wham!

"Ahhh!'

Slam!

"Oooh!"

Ram!

"Uggh!"

Bam!

The language of love is full of sound and fury, signifying nothing, I thought, but lust and the human need to take and be taken.

Although the orgasm had obviously been building for some time inside him, the launch of Brian's semen, spurting deep inside my ass, was a surprise--one I didn't even feel until he'd pulled free, and his convulsing cock spilled its warm, thick load of pearly cum all over my back, butt, and thighs, his moans and groans joining my own.

Another volley of his viscid seed burst against the golden globes of my buttocks, running like white syrup down the backs of my thighs. More sperm flew, spattering my lower back and shoulder blades. Semen continued to rain down upon my back and bottom.

Some women might have been ashamed to show these deepest, most intimate and private depths of themselves, but I was ashamed of no part or aspect of myself, whether sexual, physical, or emotional. For me, any sort of sex in which two consenting adults chose to engage was perfectly acceptable and appropriate, sodomy no less than any other form of intimacy.

Brian had made quite a mess of my ass, but we'd both enjoyed it, and, of course, no harm had been done. In due time, my well-reamed asshole would return to its normal size--well, almost, anyway.

"Thanks, Bev," Brian told me. "I needed that."

I thought of the foot-long strap-on dildo awaiting my pleasure, if not his, and I smiled. "It was nice," I said.

It was only after we'd finished that he'd commented upon my birthmark, which, I knew he must have seen; it was about the size of the red fruit for which my brother had named it, the first time he'd fucked me in the ass. I'd wondered whether Brian would have the balls to mention the blemish. After all, Id told him plainly enough that I didn't want him to call me by my brother's pet name for me, but I guess Brian figured, in having fucked me in the ass, he could take additional liberties now.

"I see why Tom calls you 'Strawberry,' he said." He smiled at me as he rubbed his semen into my stained flesh.

"Are you shocked that Tom and I have made love?"

"Maybe," he said, "a little." His fingertip circled the strawberry-shaped birthmark, his semen thickening. "My cum looks like frosting," he said.

"As brother and sister, we've always been close; one night, we got even closer," I explained. "We're still closer than close; we've been really close ever since."

His finger continued to play with the red discoloration on the underside of my right buttock. "If it were shaped like an apple, I guess he might have called it--and you--the forbidden fruit."

I chuckled. "What the hell kind of a nickname would that be?"

"Delicious," he answered, licking his cream from my berry.

"You're full of surprises, Big Bri," I told him.

"You are, too," he smirked--"Strawberry."

Again, I thought of the foot-long strap-on dildo tucked away in my dresser drawer, and I said, "You haven't the slightest idea, sweetie."

But you will have, I thought.

#

"I'm wearing a strap-on dildo, bitch," she informed him. "According to the manufacturer, it's twelve inches of 'blistering pink. . . power on a belt,' a 'solid jelly,' artificial erection with a perfectly molded head, complete with vein-etched shaft and pendulous balls. It juts from my groin at just the right location and is held securely in place by a ring attached to the front of its leather harness, which straps between my legs and around my waist. I'm going to fuck you in the ass with my woman's cock until you can't take it anymore, bitch, and then I'm going to fuck you some more, harder and faster, without mercy.."

If he ever expected to have any sex, of any kind, with Bev again, this was the price he must pay, she'd informed him, and the thought of having, forever, to forgo the sights of her tits, ass, and cunt; the idea that he would no longer be allowed to plumb the depths of her pussy or her bottom; the knowledge that he couldn't expect so much as a blowjob or a handjob--well, Brian would do anything to assure such a fate did not befall him--anything at all, including--he gulped as he eyed the monstrous phallus that dipped and swayed where, by rights, Bev's female sex should be--taking a foot-long dong up his ass.

This time, at least, they were in her bedroom, not by the side of a road in the middle of nowhere. Her parents had gone out of town, and Tom had gone with them. She had the house to herself. An hour after her parents and brother had left, she'd telephone Brian and told him to get his ass over to her house--immediately. He'd come, of course, maybe hoping to repeat his good fortune by butt-fucking her again.
<hr pg="2" />Only, this time, she'd laid down the law to him.

Now, he was hers to command.

"Get down" she instructed him, "on your elbows and knees."

Reluctantly, he did her bidding.

"Now, spread your legs, bitch!"

He complied.

His cock was flaccid. It hung, soft and limp, between his legs. Her artificial manhood dwarfed his, and, as absurd as it might be to feel so, he was humiliated at the discrepancy. Size really did matter, he told himself, especially when his chick had a bigger dick than he did!

Brian felt something cold and clammy between his buttocks and upon--and then inside!--his asshole, as Bev smeared a lubricant on her target. He cringed, knowing that she was preparing to penetrate him. He wondered whether she would also lubricate the shaft of the artificial penis before she entered him with it. Probably, she would, he thought, but he found that his uncertainty with regard to this matter upset him; it was disquieting.

The sleek flesh of her firm outer thighs brushed past his inner thighs as she knelt behind him on the floor. There was a moment's pause, and then something cool and utterly smooth, something cylindrical and firm, slid between his buttocks, parting the firm cheeks as it advanced, its rounded tip pressing resolutely against the tiny, tight opening to his rectum. Involuntarily, his buttocks compressed, and she dealt him a viscous slap. "Don't fucking resist me, bitch!" she ordered.

He relaxed his buttocks, and he felt the artificial cock force open his anus. It slid through the ring of muscle, inch after inch of its smooth cylindrical length penetrating him until, at last, all eight inches of the dildo having vanished within his rectum, he felt the cool, firm, fake, but realistic, testicles press against his perineum through the slightly wrinkled contours of their molded scrotum.

She was in, all the way in, possessing him as a man took ownership of a woman he'd penetrated. It felt glorious he thought, to lose his masculinity to her, to surrender his manhood to her, to be conquered by a woman who used him as if he were a female who had been created but to be penetrated, to be occupied, and to be assaulted. "Fuck me!" he wanted to cry, but he knew better, sensing that he must remain silent, enduring what she administered without question, complaint, protest, or even exultation. She had reduced him to a mere object--or objects--cock, balls, anus, and rectum--to use and abuse as she saw fit, and objects did not praise or celebrate, any more than they criticized or condemned, the use or abuse to which they were put.

Having been penetrated, Brain's impaled anus began to flex, contracting violently about the invading dildo. His asshole fluttered frantically, as if in a desperate, but vain, effort to expel the trespassing "organ." He was mortified beyond simple shame; he felt as if his soul had been wrung out by Bev's piercing of his buttocks with her artificial cock. He felt as if his manhood had been denied, even destroyed, by this simple act of phallic penetration. He mourned the loss of his virility, of his masculinity, of his maleness.

At the same time, though, he welcomed this outrageous usurpation of his manliness, this feminization of his person, this unmanning of himself, for Bev, in treating him as if he were a woman, had, in some real and enduring sense, actually accomplished this transformation of him, making him, if not fully a woman, something that was also less than a man. He was a new creature, somewhere between the two extremes of sex, a hermaphrodite, androgynous and genderless, a member of neither the masculine nor the feminine, but of the neuter, gender. The fluttering of his anus subsided as his body, like his mind, accepted his fate.

The lubricant Bev had applied to his ass and anus (and, he hoped, to her phallus) eased the way of the massive dildo, but its utterly smooth surface and its cylindrical shape also made penetration and intercourse fairly easy, he realized, as the dildo slid back, through his anus, before plunging home again, penetrating him anew as she drove the artificial cock deep into his rectum. 

His own cock was only nine inches, erect; hers was a dozen! The way the dildo spread his anus to many times its actual--or, at least, its original--size also suggested that her prick was much thicker than his own fleshly penis. Even though her cock was artificial and his was real, the idea that her phallus was bigger than his penis embarrassed him, and he felt a flush of shame across his face at the thought that he was being buggered by a woman with a bigger cock--and bigger balls--than his own. The size differential made him feel less manly, even impotent. His cock, which had stiffened and swelled again when she'd first penetrated him, now began to soften and dwindle again, as he bemoaned his unmanliness before this phallic woman.

As she continued to fuck him, however, thrusting ever faster and more forcefully into the depths of his bowels with the massive member secured to her groin, and he felt the insistent, quick push and pull of the phallus within his gaping anus, his cock stirred, twitched, lurched, swelled, and stood, gaining the full glory of its erection, and his balls seemed to shrink inside the tightening, rising pouch of his scrotum.

He'd learned, he supposed, to enjoy the disparity between his smaller and less robust organ and her larger, more powerful, if artificial, counterpart. To be denied, whether with regard to gender, sex, or genital superiority, was as exciting, in its own way--or maybe more exciting--than to experience success or fulfillment in these areas. To be rendered genderless and sexless, to be made into a psychological eunuch, was arousing and delightful. It was fun, even fulfilling, to be unmanned, especially by a woman. To give up dominance in favor of submission, power in exchange for powerlessness, and to become willingly weak rather than strong was a heady experience. No wonder his cock was stiffer than it had ever been before and his balls felt as if, any moment, they must explode!

Again and again, each time he felt the smooth cylinder rush past the inward-curving cheeks of his buttocks' sleek cleavage and through his ravaged asshole, to plunge into his depths, and each time he felt his buttocks flattening before the leather harness that covered his ravisher's groin, Brian was reminded of his submissiveness, his passivity, his compliance, his acceptance of being penetrated, filled, and ravished. He was reminded of his having been unmanned by a woman and of his own acceptance, and, indeed, delight, in having been castrated sexually and emotionally.

Bev slammed him again and again, mercilessly and savagely, cramming her blistering pink dildo up his ass. She would pause, occasionally, to grind her leather-girded loins into his backside, crushing flat the buoyant mounds of his derriere, to let him feel her presence more fully, before withdrawing her prick to ram him again, harder, faster, and deeper. Her pussy flowed an endless, copious stream of juices, inundating her thighs. He, too, had had an orgasm, and his cock was spurting thick streams of semen all over the place.

She let him rest for a while, so he could get his strength back. Men were such pussies! After one orgasm, they had to wait before they were able to achieve another erection, and, during this time--about fifteen minutes in men of Brian's age--they uninterested in sex.

Well, she wasn't uninterested, Bev thought, and she needn't wait to enjoy another orgasm. While Brian recuperated, she played another DVD. This one, Butt Boys, was really hot. When Brian had recharged his batteries, the action in this film would bring him fully erect in no time, and Bev would try out her newest strap-on, the one her brother Tom had bought her, just for this occasion--the eighteen-inch model that was as thick as her ankle.

Meanwhile, she fingered herself. Her clit got hard almost as soon as the bear impaled his twink, and she watched the burly macho man pump his thick, hard cock inside the thin young man's smooth bottom. Before the stud climaxed, she'd experienced two, intense back-to-back orgasms, imagining that she was the hairy, barrel-chested macho man and Brian was the twink.

Her parents and sibling were gone all week; she'd have Brian stay over, every night, and, when she sent him home, he'd be hers forever, an effeminate catamite who'd take her prick up his ass whenever she liked, which would be often.

She noticed that, as he watched the action on her TV set, Brian had recovered sufficiently to have attained an erection. "You ready to go again?" she demanded.

He grinned.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said. "Assume the position."

"Wait! You mean--?"

"Yes, bitch; that's exactly what I mean. From now on, I'm the fucker, and you, pussy, are the fucked."

His eyes stared in terror at the humongous dildo she removed from her dresser and strapped about her hips, but he did as he'd been told.

He got down on his elbows and knees, before her, on her bedroom carpet; he assumed the position, ready, as always, to "experiment with something different." 

