The Elephant (FFFM Bond Toys)
They didn't talk about me. Not even as if I wasn't there, they looked, and smiled, then went back to their conversation. The Bechdel Test. I guess, but my girlfriend isn't a lesbian. She's an "entreporneur." Her little joke, but we saw a niche, and figured out how to exploit it.
"See, the problem with Buying sex toys," more than one of her customers has said, "Is that you don't get to try them out. Online, or in porn shops."
She brought her girlfriend, "Yeah, you pretty must see something, and it looks good, but then you get it home and it's uncomfortable, or awkward." She looked up at me again. "Then it just winds up sitting there. Gathering dust, and useless." Smiling, but they both looked at my dick. As hard as it gets, bouncing up and down slightly with my pulse, and I don't care about the Bechdel Test.
It's a joke, anyway. We're not writing a romantic comedy here, "So, what do you like in a dildo?"
"Well," Peggy crossed her legs. "I prefer a model that's quiet." Felt my heel, and up my calf. Back from the back of my knee, and massaged the muscle, but kept talking. I missed a lot of it, just slipping down, into subspace. Forgetting they were there, or there was anything else. Except for her touch, her steely long thin fingers, and her voice. It doesn't even matter what she says, as long as she isn't asking me a question.
"Hm?" The lesbians looked down, and the long haired one shook her head. "Sorry, what was that?"
"Well," she gave my buttock a gentle squeeze, and let go. "There's really no comparison. The Real Thing, as you put it, is pretty obsolete."
Her butch girlfriends eyes wandered, though. Back up to the side, and I shuddered a little. At a drop squeezing out my prostate in anticipation, then welling out from under the tight metal ring around the base. Slowly rolling out to the tip, and holding my breath so I don't moan. Risking a look at the monitor.
The big screen, on the wall behind them. Also, completely ignored. The camera set up on the side, to record every beat of my heart. Every vein bulging in the side, and I know she uses them to show off. On her website, that millions of women have probably seen me like this, but that's nothing compared to the dyke.
I mean, even if she hadn't explicitly stated her preferred terms. She's also hands down the butchest Dyke I ever have met, myself. Not that I'm an expert, or anything, but a large part of our business are lesbians that want to add something to their collections. I'm just not usually involved in most of those deals, for obvious reasons. Her nostrils flared with a loud breath. Out of her nose, but I saw it.
Run down the cleft down the middle of my throbbing hard dildo. It's not even a dick, not any more. I'm a living dildo, a sex toy, just sitting on the shelf. Bound and gagged on my knees in the corner. Up on an end table, with more of them displayed in front of me.
So many that some are even between my legs. The big black double header just flopped out on the clamps securing my calves, and the thick greasy drop falling to roll off the side, leaving a shiny line. Also, a thin translucent string, hanging like glass in the room, which had gone quiet.
They stopped talking at all, for quite some time, and I struggled to hold my breath. Not make a sound, but I can't help shivering a little.
"Huh!" The dyke rolled her eyes, "Well, that's as may be, but I still don't have anything to compare it to. You know, just to say how much better it is, than The Real Thing." (c)
"Oh, you're not really interested, are you?"
"In the realistic model?" Peggy talked over me, until I wasn't gasping loudly through my nose.
"I don't know," the femme got out her purse. "It sure is expensive. But you're worth it." They kissed, kinda sweetly, and the femme just held up the money. Cash, 2 fresh crisp $100.00 bills. "Smooch."
For her lesbian lover to use me. I willed myself not to come too soon. I don't want to disappoint them, any of them, but it's an honor, and a privilege to serve her. To represent my sex, and I know that I won't hold up to anything that's been developed since.
"It's only a hundred." Peggy took them both though.
"Yeah, well I'm gonna nail him after she's done." Just like that, the pretense was over.
(c) Faith No More 1989. Used without permission, All Rights Reserved.
- - -
Alison (1977 Elvis Costello, and the Attractions)
Okay, first of all it doesn't look like much from the outside. A porn shop, I suppose. You don't put out a sign, they just picked us up, and then he unlocked the door. To the office, while she got out the camera, and talked to it. The same introduction as all of her videos, I'm sure for legal reasons.
All about what this isn't. It's not prostitution, it's pornography. Everyone involved is over 18, and it's perfectly legal to play out fantasies, purely for entertainment. Bla bla bla, she also pointed out that everyone involved is a willing participant, specifically. "Right dick?" Lowercase d.
"Yes, of course. They're not forcing me to do anything I don't want to do. Huh!" He smiled, and made that face. "I love it."
I believe him, and now I have to think about what I'm not. I identify as a Dyke. Might as well get that out of the way, but I've been called worse. Hell, calling someone Lady can be as much of an insult as Bitch, the way some people say it.
I'm not a man, and it took me a long time to come to terms with that. When I was 6, I cried for weaks when mom, and dad told me I couldn't be a boy when I grew up. Then came therapy, and a lot of talking about what I would, or wouldn't be able to accept.
A long list of options, surgery, hormones, and all of them looked worse than the last. I know a lot of transgender people. They're all unique, as unique as anyone else. We're all special little snowflakes, get over it. It's an identity not a checklist of things to cross off in a book.
So, I went through puberty, and decided to settle for what mother nature saw fit to give me. It's not that bad, tricky to pee standing up, and it's still a little messy, but basically it took almost 20 years for me to decide. Along with the love of my life, that Dyke is close enough.
Byegones, this isn't really about her either. It's about Us, our relationship, and how it can evolve, now that we got past all that, stuff. What brought us here is the fact that she tried it, first. Sex, with a man, just to see what she was missing, and I suppose satisfy her bi-sexual curiosity.
Nope, 100% gay. She doesn't identity as a lesbian, either. She prefers gynophile, vagitarian, or whatever, but gay for short. It's like Dyke, 1 syllable that pretty much sums it up. She's gay, and also pretty happy about it.
That out of the way, she shut off the camera, and set up the display. Let me just say that she didn't have much of anything we hadn't already bought, tried, used up, and sold on the used market. Oh yeah, by the way, in case you're wondering, yes.
There are guys out there that will pay for the chance to own a used dildo. Used by real live lesbeyons (I hate that word, by the way) with a video of us using it. Once, unwrap it on camera, box it up after we're done, they'll even pay shipping, and handling.
Beats real work, and it doesn't hurt that we look like the stereotypical Butch/skirt lesbian couple they fantasize about. A side benefit is we got to go through the entire catalog, all the way up to the monsters. As big around as a beer can, baseball bats, and a trailer hitch knob some pig in San Antonio sent us pictures of. Bolted under the bumper of his monster truck with plastic balls hanging off the back.
Were we insulted? Yeah, that was his point. Bragging rights, he now had the only truck in town with a part that'd been fucked by 2 real live lesbeyunz, and the video to prove it. Still had the sticker on it from the automotive department at fucking Walmart.
7, grand. Seven, thousand dollars. Total net profit. That's what we made off of that biggoted prick. $7,000.00 in the bank. He kept bidding higher, and higher, to satisfy his sick fantasy, and you know what? It's kinda hot. Knowing that there's another satisfied customer out there, driving around with a trophy on his truck, and we both came like gangbusters doing it.
It's not about the money, but we're not sending it back. He's an asshole, and asshole's money spends just like anyone else's. So, before you judge us, try to think of something we haven't heard before. You think you can come up with something more insulting than that? I'd like to see you try. We'll probably get off on that too.
That's what Empowerment means to me.
*-*-*
"Mona" (FF Toys Alias)
It's just so excited to be here! I'm just trying to fangirl, okay? I am, a big fan of Peggy, and Dick's. 1 stop cock shop, and it's not about what you fuck with. Nor even how you use it, it's Who they are. That goes for anyone, but I'm a porn star. We all are, and it's been a long long time since anything ever felt quite so exciting, and new.
As for the money, this collaboration is going to make us a lot of it. Still have those kitchen counters to pay off, but the contractors got the video of us using those as a bonus. Don't want them taken for granite, but like that there's no announcement. No hype, just going to upload the videos on our websites, and see what happens. The best way to add their kind of content to ours, and vice-versa. Hyping it up would just skew the resulting numbers.
We're probably both going to split the cost of moving to a larger server, but we'll talk business later. "Right now I want to make love to your beautiful, beautiful body." ~Mr. Bungle, cue the music. (In post.)
She's even more stunning in person. Even taller, though those ball crushing stillettos, you probably don't want to know where they've been, but if you'd like to, the video is covered in the cost of your subscription. I'd only ever imagined her before, standing up.
Towering over me, and looking down. The way she stands, she doesn't walk like a model. She can, another video they've done is the paparazzi sneaking into the changing room behind the scenes of a fashion show, and the line bang of models stopping to nail him in between walks down the catwalk.
"Mh!" I'm not, a naturally submissive girl. I'm not introverted, or shy, normally. This is just such a dream come true, I don't know what to say. I'm on camera, I don't know my role in this scene, what's my motivation?
Her. Peggy, ignoring me, and just walking over to the cabinet. With glory holes cut in the side, some kind of plastic instead of glass, I think was probably originally for a shower stall, but she unlocked the padlock.
It's dripping. I'm just going to skip past the whole Pronoun debate, but for the purpose of this scene? Yeah, he's an It. Reduced to a dick, a living dildo, a sex toy to be used, and discarded when it doesn't measure up. That's what all that dialog was about.
"That's another thing. A dildo is always hard. You don't have to worry about getting it up, or cumming too early. Untying him so he can go take a smoke break, and waiting until he recovers."
He's trying not to show it, but the fluid milking out from her thumb. Pinching the bottom so hard, it's bent down, and this isn't just A drop. It leaked, and dribbled, leaving that runny string for her to shake off with a slap. Let's just say he's got a healthy prostate.
"Ngh!"
"Sh!" She patted his face. Pushed him, so his bare ass slapped the table. Up against the wall, but my partner was already naked, and his arms were crossed. One on top of the other, so he couldn't even catch himself. Just wince at the tight pouch of his balls bounced, and slapped the wood with the weight of his rock hard cock. He grunted, and a little snot came out the side of his nose.
"Snh!"
