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Victorian-era man becomes enamored with his maidservant.

SPIT. RINSE; SPIT. FINGER-DOWN-THROAT. GAG. SPIT. COUGH. SPIT. RINSE; SPIT. RINSE; SPIT. RINSE, GARGLE, SPIT. BRUSH TEETH; SPIT. Vow to NEVER, NEVER EVER give a blow job to a shampoo bottle ever again. But, butt...

...it WAS the size I was looking for. I flipped the top closed, worked the dents out of the plastic, and placed it on the edge of the tub, straddling it with my naked ass.

The ridges around the top were uncomfortable as they went in, but not much bigger around than my finger had been. Then the plastic flared out wide, as wide as any boys cock, I was certain of it. I took more and more weight off my legs, putting more and more pressure on my anal ring. Soon, my body would rip wide open and swallow the fake prick. It would hurt. Badly. I took more weight off my legs, and could feel my muscles open slightly as the hole dented in around the cold bottle...

Cold. Why did it feel so cold? Weren't boys penises hot? Maybe that was the problem. I stood up and ran hot water on the bottle for a few minutes, so that even the fluid inside was hot. I held it to my cheek to test the temperature. Hot. Very hot. But not scalding.

I resumed my position. This time the visitor was more pleasant, and hopefully more welcome. All of my weight was now centered over "him", except what I needed for balance as I straddled the hot shampoo bottle perched precariously on the edge of the tub. My tiny sphincter dented inward painfully as the blood was squeezed out of the muscle. But it wouldn't go in! Heather MUST be lying! Boys big thingy's just weren't meant to fit in girl's tiny little backside holes! In one final attempt, just to prove it wouldn't work, I grabbed the shower curtain for balance, and lifted my feet entirely off the floor. My hole crept just slightly lower down the phallus, and POP! Suddenly my bowels were filled with hot, white liquid, rivets of the creamy fluid rolling down the side of the bottle and onto the edge of the tub. "He's coming! Coming inside of me!" I closed my eyes and lowered one hand to my little pleasure button as waves of euphoria washed over me.

Convulsions of pleasure overtook my entire body. My anus clenched and released around the top of the bottle-which still supported the weight of my body. This muscular activity allowed the hot, greasy liquid to work itself between the bottle and the soft pink flesh of my dumb teenaged ass. "Lubrication." My mind whispered, discovering the missing ingredient just one split-second before my ass slammed down all the way to the base of the hot bottle. The rings of the shower curtain snapped and my feet flew up into the air. I tipped backward, balancing for a moment flat on my back on the edge of the tub. In what must have been slow-motion, I rolled to my left, falling into the tub face down, a shampoo bottle buried oh-so-deeply between the cheeks of my ass. Convulsions from my completely ruined orgasm still squeezed at the bottle, only now the muscle worked at the base, causing hot, white fluid to pump into my traumatized rectum with each throbbing spasm.

All of this happened in the course of just a few seconds. Within the time span of a single outgoing breath. And as I took in my next breath, the agony, the horror, the humiliation, the fear were just now reaching my brain, knocking loudly, demanding entry, and utterly vaporizing the pure pleasure which had occupied the same space moments ago.

Agony was the first sensation to hit me. I couldn't stop the gut-wrenching scream, but I managed to delay it for a split second, long enough to cover my mouth tightly with both hands. The noise that escaped my nose wasn't loud enough to wake Heather-fortunately she's a sound sleeper. But it also wasn't enough to satisfy my need to scream. So I took another deep breath, and screamed again, again through my nose, with my hands gripping tightly to my mouth. And again. And one more time. Then it occurred to me that if I could just stop screaming for a damn minute, I could reach back and try to dislodge the evil, raping, spurting shampoo bottle.

Holding my

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