The Masterson Chronicles
( by Vintagetales)
(Special thanks must go to my friend Tesseract for his Proof reading and editing skills. It's so much better than it was... believe me.)
(This series of stories is set in an alternative past of the 1930s. When the telephone was cutting edge. It was a time of scientific breakthroughs. Of Superstition. Of Witchcraft. Of Zeppelins. Of Ocean-going ships. Of Fedora hats. Of Can-Can dancers. Of Nightclub singers. There were men, there were women and there were Futas... oh boy were there Futas. It was a time for Adventurers and Explorers. For Inventors and Scientists. For Villains and Mad Doctors... It was a time for Heroes...)
Chapter 2. "That's what the old gypsy woman had said"
September 1931. Aurora Aerodrome, not far from Chicago...
This was going to be great! It was all Roxie could think about. She had closed the door to her quarters. In an effort to keep any prying eyes away. Strictly speaking they weren't actual quarters, just the maintenance and storage section of the hanger Jazz had rented. However Roxie stayed here so late, so often, she'd set up a folding bed in a hidden corner.
It was early evening and most of the other ground staff had already gone home. She could hear the engines of the last few cars and motorbikes roar to life as their owners took off. In 1931, not many people were crazy enough to fly at night. This was a private aerodrome, though soon it would be an empty one. She'd have no interruptions. Even so, she peeked out the doorway one last time. Her insufferable shyness made her so cautious. All clear...
Oh, she was being such a bad girl and it just added to the thrill. Roxie opened up the sling bag, which she almost always wore, and rummaged around. Pushing aside a few spanners, a hammer, a monkey wrench, another smaller hammer, she located her prize. A little bundle of mismatched rags, untidy and nondescript. Placing them on the table, she had to stifle a small giggle as she unwrapped them...
"Oh, Roxanne Sanchez, you naughty, naughty girl," she whispered to herself.
Resting on the oil cloth was a pair of dark brown leather dildos. One was about eight inches long, thick and curved slightly. The leather bindings gave it a ribbed feel. "All the better for the pleasure it brings". That's what the old gypsy woman had said. Roxie's own understanding of engineering, and some intense biological experimentation, knew this to be true.
She'd 'confirmed that statement' with the leather-bound handle of her smaller hammer on more than one occasion. It had become a reliable favourite. Even thinking about that made her blush, but it was time for a pleasure upgrade. The second toy was much shorter, only about three inches. It was a bulbous tear drop shape with a flared base, to prevent it... getting lost. She chuckled at the thought of just where it might get lost to.
Even looking at these was giving Roxie a stiffy. Her nine-inch beast swiftly began to rise and would probably make getting out of her boiler suit more of an endeavour. She rapidly pulled at the spring fasteners and was naked to the waist in moments, firm Double D's jiggled merrily. She had to reach into the pants and manoeuvre her cock out of the way, just to pull the suit down further. Which to play with first? Her hand flicked indecisively from one to the other but finally grasped a hold of the butt plug. Jeepers! Just the feel of it was making her horny.
She bent forward, leaning one arm on the table and pushing her little ass out. She drew the toy over her tiny pucker. The feel of it caused her to shudder, and made her cock wag up and down obscenely. She giggled, imagining the sight she'd present if someone were to walk in right now. Her boiler suit bunched at her knees, her buck-naked form bent over, wantonly rubbing a toy over her butthole. The thought of it caused a long drip of pre-cum to ooze from the tip of her stiff meat. A few seconds spent pressing back there left her in no doubt that some form of lubricant would be necessary.
She popped the butt plug in her mouth like an oversized lollipop and scanned the room for an appropriate engineering solution. Saliva would do at a pinch, and certainly her own pre-cum could definitely do the job. It had before, thinking of a previous adventure with the smaller hammer's handle. Pausing her search, she removed the toy from her mouth to roll it around her rods dripping bell end. The clear viscous fluid quickly flowed onto the toy making it glisten wetly in the light. She studied its surface intently before popping it back in her mouth.
'So yummy,' her mind gasped, 'and so nasty of you Roxie. What would Jazz think if she saw you like this?' Her cock twitched wildly at the thought.
Her hands, working on automatic, opened the lower drawer of a desk. She extracted a small can of 'Gear and Go' lubricating grease.
"Perfect!" she said to the darkening corners of the little office. A moments prying with a nearby flat head screwdriver and she was dipping three fingers into the can. Seconds later those same fingers were slipping and sliding between the cleft of her buttocks. She half bit her lip as she felt them roam over the tight twitching muscle located there. There was a sort of taboo pleasure in what she was doing, a thrill of the forbidden... or at least the highly frowned upon.
A single finger probed gently at first, poking and prodding, seemingly mapping out the topography. Roxie soothed her breathing, relaxing in anticipation of the muscle's reluctance. The finger became more insistent and found a little purchase. She applied more pressure, more force. Her anus resisted, but when the pressure was suddenly removed, it to relaxed.
Roxie willed it to remain at ease. Greasy fingers massaged the twitching ring. It reacted, pulsing slightly at the gentler touch. Then the pressing digit returned, more assertive, more determined. Its target was unable to resist, partly due to the oily lubricant, but mostly because of Roxie's need, her want. It burrowed and flexed its way inside, making Roxie groan lustfully. A second finger joined it moments later with embarrassing ease.
