The Gadget

The Gadget: A narrative from Ms. Gimply's collection.

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It's a bitch to have a sex drive when you are under three feet tall.

To begin with, there is the problem of pleasuring myself. It is not my height itself that is the problem. But my short little arms will simply not reach to the places that I need them. Years of rehab (a stupid term since I was never "habbed" in the first place) had taught me to dress with hooks and to use other assorted appliances to get through daily life.

But, diddling my clit with a dressing hook had never done it for me. Once I tried inserting the curved handle of a cane. It didn't work because I need a lot of stimulation on the outside before the inside will give me pleasure. And, besides, I felt really dumb doing it. From time to time, I tried just clenching my legs and wiggling or humping a firm pillow. Nothing worked. That's where the matter stood for many years.

I substituted by doing the bar scene and casually picking up guys for one night stands. That was easy in the college town where I lived but it didn't really work either. In the first place, most guys had to be really drunk to go home with me. Then they were usually too drunk to perform or even to care. In the morning, I would watch them do some version of the "coyote ugly" routine and escape as soon as they could. More often than not I ended up more frustrated than when I began.

Add to that the risks I was taking. Occasionally I ended up with a real wierdo who wanted unwelcome kink or threatened to be violent. Then there were frequent lapses of protection that threatened pregnancy and disease. Often I was too drunk to care.

I tried going with women a few times. They were gentle and attentive but simply didn't do it for me. I guess I'm just not wired that way. I wish that I was. Life would be simpler.

Then I went through a big STD scare. After lots of medication and a stern lecture from my doctor, I resolved to clean up my act. I was already twenty eight years old. I was doing well at work and a promotion was imminent. I really did not want to mess up my life.

I made three pledges to myself:

1 - I would not get drunk any more (at least not very drunk).

2 - I would not have sex without a condom.

3 - I would not take home guys who were too drunk to know the difference.

I did go back to the bar scene but I stuck to my resolutions. The result was that I had little fun and got no action.

I still enjoyed the dancing. Yes, I dance. My little legs let me shuffle a bit and I could twist and shake, too. I always kept to a dark corner of the dance floor. I avoided dancing with any specific partner because I didn't particularly like close up staring into crotches.

There was one bar I had to avoid altogether. That was where I had been so drunk that I let some guys lift me to dance on a table. I think I would have tried to strip for them if the bartender hadn't broken up the party. (He said he liked my dancing but was afraid for his license.)

The bar scene wasn't much fun without an erotic edge. Home was even more boring without sex. My life became one long round of monotony except for my work.

That is when I discovered an ad for 'The Remote Control Pulsating and Vibrating Ruby Thong.' I had never thought of such a thing. I was intrigued. I studied the ad in detail. Three speeds sounded good for variety and for building arousal gradually. The range of fifteen to twenty feet was more than enough to reach from my hand to my crotch. Panties were a snap to put on with dressing hooks. Clitoral stimulation was precisely what I needed. I didn't think very much about the passionately heated nights out with a partner.

I couldn't see a down side. I briefly considered an alternative ad for the 'Insertable Remote Control Vibrating Egg.' But that wasn't where I need stimulation to begin with. And I couldn't even insert a tampax with my dressing hooks.

So I ordered the 'The Remote Control Pulsating and Vibrating Ruby Thong.' In the days I waited for it to be delivered I bought a big package of sixteen AAA batteries. The next day I bought another package just in case. I read everything I could find about using vibrators.

It was delivered on a Friday. I stayed home the whole weekend and experimented. It was the best sex I ever had! The low speed worked for long and slow arousal. The middle speed worked for building to a climax and then a shot from the high speed would bring a crashing orgasm.

I experimented with continuous vibrations and with short pulses. I discovered that almost everything was nice and the variety was endless. I found that if I wore a pair of realy tight panties over the thong the vibrator pulled in firm and close and the sensation was strong and powerful.

For a month I was happy to stay home. But I began to miss the music and dancing and company of the bar scene. That's when I decided to wear my 'Remote Control Pulsating and Vibrating Ruby Thong' on a night out at the bars. I could drink a bit and I could discretely pleasure myself as I danced. Then I could return home and finish up on high speed without some disgusting drunk guy in my bed.

I figured out how to attach the remote control to a bracelet with a piece of shoelace. It was just long enough to fit in the palm of my hand. I saw in the mirror that it was not too obvious. And, besides, If anyone asked about I could make up some story like it's a pedometer to record how many steps I dance.

On Friday night I prepared to go out. Earlier, I had made sure the battery on my electric scooter was fully charged. Now I put fresh AAA batteries in the vibrator and its control. Over my thong I donned my tightest and sexiest jeans. (They are sexy if you overlook that they are not much longer than their width.) I put my bracelet and control on my wrist.

Mounted on my scooter I set out for the bars, about a half mile away. The bouncers at the door greeted me. They all knew me. They promised to watch my wheels while I was inside. They held the door open for me.

Once inside, I laboriously climbed the four steps with my rolling gait. I was glad there were only four. Once on top, I scoped the place out. Some college students that I knew casually were at a big booth and there seemed to be enough room for me.

I approached and they asked me to join them. I was chided for being such a stranger and they wanted to know where I had been all this time. I was vague about that. The waitress brought me my usual.

One of them introduced me briefly to someone I had never seen before. He was a student in electronics and technology who had just transferred to the local college from somewhere downstate. He looked out of place here.

He actually wore dark rimmed spectacles. His dirty blond hair was unruly with a cowlick sticking up. He had an odd way of looking at you, sort of crooked as if he was peering from behind a post. His grin was a bit lopsided, too.

But the most riveting thing about him was that the in the pocket of his faded denim shirt he actually had a plastic pocket protector. It was filled with a row of pens, pencils and assorted markers. The flap bore the name and logo of an engineering company. A calculator peeked from the top of the opposite pocket.

I was astonished. I didn't know that there were nerds any more. At least I didn't know that there were nerds that went to bars. He could have left his pens and calculator at home. More stylish glasses would help, too.

I didn't talk to him except to say, "Hi." I was anxious to get to the dance floor. With my secret in my hand I made my way to a dark corner and began to sway.

My vibrator on low power stirred me to dance with slow and languid motions. The lights, the crowd and the one drink I had downed combined with the music lifted me to sweet arousal. This had been a really good idea.

I returned to the booth and ordered another drink. The nerd wasn't there but he came back just as I was leaving for another dance. We exchanged a few words and then I left. On the way, I was jostled by some drunken jerk who stumbled into me. I kept my balance and continued on my way.

I began to dance again. I twisted my hand to retrieve the control on its string. All I found was the string and it was untied! "Crap," I thought, "It must have gone when that idiot bumped me." I began to retrace my steps.

Then for an instant I felt the tickle. It didn't last long and I thought it must be my imagination. Then I felt it again and it was unmistakable. Someone had the thing and was fooling with it!

I knew it had to be close. The ad had said up to twenty feet. My eyes began to move in a circle with a twenty foot radius. I had completed about a third of the search when I saw the nerd studiously inspecting something he held in his hands. That had to be it.

I made my way as quickly as I could back to the booth. I felt some more little shocks as I went. I peered over the top of the table and said' "That's mine. Thanks for finding it." He continued to play.

"I love gadgets," he replied, "What is this for?"

I made my voice stern. "May I please -- ." I got no further than that when, I felt a contuous high speed jolt that made my body convulse. I clung to the edge of the table with both hands and struggled not to lose control as the spasms came. As soon as I could, I hissed at him saying, "Hands off that thing and give it to me."

He complied, but he looked a bit hurt. I felt a little bit sorry for him. But he continued in a loud voice, "What is that thing? I love gadgets."

"Keep your voice down," I shushed him. Again he looked hurt. "It's none of your business."

He looked even more hurt. "But I do like gadgets." His voice was hushed and he had a kind of hangdog look. I did feel sorry for him.

I climbed into the booth next to him and said, "If you keep your voice down and keep a secret I'll tell you."

I ordered another drink and then in a hushed voice I told the story of 'The Remote Control Pulsating and Vibrating Ruby Thong.' I showed him the controls but I didn't use them.

He was fascinated. He didn't seem a bit shocked by the secret I was sharing with him. He didn't leer at me. He didn't make lewd remarks. He didn't try to grab the controls. His eyes sparkled behind his glasses.

"That's a great gadget," he exclaimed in a still hushed voice. "It must work by radio. Infrared or laser light wouldn't control it under clothing. Ultrasound would have to be too strong to be practical and the dogs wouldn't like it."

I had a hard time digesting the idea about the dogs. My drink had gone fast and I ordered another.

"How does it work," he asked. "Are there three separate frequencies for the speeds or is it one frequency modulated with tones?" He frowned and looked into space. "It could be frequency modulated."

I was at once appalled and amused. I had just told him my most intimate secret and he was going on about radio waves and dogs. He was a genuine nerd. I even started to like him a bit. I told him I had no idea how it worked.

"We could use a spectrum analyzer to find out. We could sort of reverse engineer it," he enthused, but still hardly above a whisper. "I'll bet that it wouldn't be hard to build a control that responded to the beat of the music or to levels of light and dark."

I have to admit that the idea of working it to the beat of the music intrigued me. I had a fleeting sense that my nerd could be useful and even fun. The mention of music called me to the dance floor again.

I clasped the control in my hand but I saw it was going to be hard to hold without its string. Also I worried about dropping it again. "Will you hold this for me?" I asked.

His eyes brightened. "Sure." he replied. "Can I work it for you? I love gadgets."

I even blushed a bit. I hadn't expected him to be quite so bold. "What the hell," I thought to myself. "You have to promise to stay on low speed." I sped to the dance floor without waiting for his reply.

I felt the little charges. In fact they did follow the beat of the music. I was a bit apprehesive about being out of control. But he seemed to follow my orders about staying on low speed.

Sometimes the pulses were longer, sometimes shorter. I liked the long ones but not as a steady diet of stimulation. They semed to vary back and forth exactly as I wanted them. This geek was good!

Gradually I began to notice a pattern. The short pulses came when I was dancing in the shadows. The longer ones came when I came to the light. When I needed them subdued, I would move toward the shadows. When I needed more I would dance to the light. I marvelled. He was manipulating me.

I returned to the table and climbed on the seat opposite him this time. I told him, "I caught on to your trick with the light and dark. Shame on you."

He beamed. "I took a course in Behavioral Psychology. Operant conditioning is what they call it. The experimenter waits for the behavior he wants and then rewards it. After enough repetitions, the experimental animal will repeat the behaviour that is rewarded. I had you coming into the light when you wanted more and to the dark when you wanted less."

"Listen, gadget man, I've studied more Psychology than you ever will and I could teach the course on the B.F.Skinner stuff." I pouted a bit. "And what do you expect to accomplish by calling a lady an experimental animal?" Now he had the hangdog look again and I felt sorry for him. It wasn't his fault that he was a nerd. That's just how it goes for some people.

His glass was empty. "Let me buy you a drink. What will it be?"

"Oh, I only drink water."

"My God, the waitress must hate you, drinking free all night."

"No," he said innocently. "I gave her a big tip when I came in and told her I'll drink water. She's happy. And I think she enjoys stiffing the owners of the place."

When she came, I ordered ginger ale. She looked at me a bit funny because I had never done that before. Then she turned to him and smiled. "The usual?" she asked. He replied with his crooked smile.

Well, I recognized the way she looked at him and realized he could probably go home with her if he wanted to. A generous man who is sober is not a bad deal. I was surprised that I even felt a bit jealous.

We nursed our drinks. "I really like gadgets." he mused. After a pause he continued. "I would sure like to see the other end."

Now was the moment to decide. The way he said it I couldn't be sure whether he was interested only in the other end of the gadget or in my other end as well. Also I couldn't tell whether I liked him or I just liked my gadget.

This all raced quickly through my mind. At least, I decided, we had a mutual interest in 'The Remote Control Pulsating and Vibrating Ruby Thong.' I reviewed my new rules.

1 - I wasn't drunk (or at least not very drunk).

2 - I had condoms at home.

3 - And he wasn't drunk at all!

His remark about reverse engineering flashed through my mind.

I couldn't see a down side. "I can't show you here," I giggled. "You'll have to come to my place."

He answered with his lopsided grin.

We were outside and on the way well before closing time. We turned onto the tree lined avenue that led to my apartment building. The moon was up and casting shadows of the trees on the sidewalk.

He ambled beside my scooter with his hand in a pocket with the gadget. Every time I passed from shadow to moonlight the vibrations increased and then softened again as I returned to shadow. I studied the patterns of light and shadow as far ahead as I could see in rapt anticipation.

At my place I drove the scooter into the hall and dismounted. I didn't turn on a light. I reached up for his hand and led him through the darkened living room to my bedroom.

The room was in darkness except for a wide swath of moonlight from the window that shone over the pillows and counterpane of my bed. I knew that it was an omen.