Grab 'Em by the Horns Pt. 01

"I'm hooome," Laurence sang as he swung through the front door of the suite he shared with Andy and Rob. His color-blocked polyester jacket swished loudly with each move, but he heard no response when he pulled the headphones of his walkman off his ears. "And someone's got mail!"

The bait did not catch, probably because no one was home. With a sigh, Laurence lightly kicked the door shut and sank into the soft corduroy couch while slipping out of his shoes. On his chest he held a medium-sized brown box addressed to Robert Cilka with no return address. He turned the box over in his hands to make sure--yep, no other address. He had checked all three mailboxes in the Student Commons of Heartwood College, and been excited to find the package waiting. Then he bit his lip, running his finger along the box's edge; Rob had said he found something that Laurence wasn't going to believe, but he hadn't said what it was. The man was tight-lipped, and had refused with a smile to answer any further questions. But class had only just let out, and if Rob had band rehearsal, he wasn't likely to get back until after supper.

Laurence rolled his eyes and absently stuck the nail of his index finger beneath the packing tape. He had already said he was planning to order pizza for the weekend, and wasn't planning on going back out. He didn't want to wait.

"Fuck it," he muttered after weighing the options, ripping the tape off and opening the box. Rob could always forgive him later, and he really wanted to know what Rob had found. So it was a federal crime--he could finish all his coursework in prison. He was starting to get behind.

As he bent back the cardboard flaps and removed the paper packing, he pulled out a long pink box with an image of a large, realistic-looking dildo attached to a tan harness, with the words Grab 'Em by the Horns printed in bold across the bottom. "Jesus, as if!" Laurence exclaimed in disbelief, feeling the heft of the box and turning it over to read the back. "Yep, that's--basically eleven inches erect." He moved his finger slightly and grimaced at the illustration of a naked, long-horned, half-human half-bull vigorously masturbating, her breasts hefty and full. One: grody. Two: that didn't even make sense. Why would someone be rubbing a fake rubber cock? Maybe it vibrated... whatever, girls were weird. Maybe they got off on something like that, rubbing a fake cock and letting it turn their arms numb as they rubbed their clit beneath it. And... movable testicles? Moves like skin? Freaky.

As strange as the whole contraption was, he didn't think it quite interesting enough to warrant purchasing it. Or making a big deal about it. He knew Andy had grown up in a conservative, religious family here in Houston, and though Laurence wouldn't consider himself sheltered, he wasn't so sure he was very worldly either. Maybe it would make more sense when Rob explained it, Laurence hoped. Otherwise it was just kind of gross. A little funny, but mostly off-putting. It's not like he was gay or anything. He hadn't even seen another dick before, but with how realistic this one looked... it almost seemed as if now he had.

With a grunt and a shake of his head, Laurence tossed the box onto the low, battered coffee table and dragged himself to his room to change into more comfortable clothing. He threw his backpack onto the ground beside his unmade bed and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it onto the pile of other mostly-clean shirts beside his wardrobe.

He unbuttoned his striped shirt and unrolled the sleeves before he took it off and threw that in the pile as well. He traded his black trousers for his worn jeans and stretched his arms high over his head with a yawn, letting his back crack as he leaned backward slightly. "Thank God," he muttered, relieved that it was Friday. He felt, finally, like he needed this weekend more than he ever had before, and that he deserved it. Laurence wished he hadn't taken a campus job; he liked working in the library during the on hours, but it left barely enough time for him to finish all of his coursework. If he hesitated for a moment, he felt like he was going to fall off a very tall cliff. It didn't help that he wasn't the smartest one in the herd. He was smart enough to know that. Waking up two hours early to finish the scraps he hadn't been able to complete before nearly collapsing from exhaustion, only to be hit with a pop quiz in a different class, and then being assigned three papers by the end of the quarter? He was starting to wonder if it was worth all the stress and the sleepless nights and exhausted days.

As he opened his wardrobe to grab his deodorant, his gaze caught on the photos inside the door, taped to the wood below his small mirror. Samantha. He smiled and brushed a polaroid with his fingertip. At least he was lucky enough to have Samantha: ravishing, patient, patient Samantha. If they only managed a few greetings and kisses throughout the day, that was enough for her. He could make it up to her the next time they managed to meet for sex; she was just as busy as him, and it made the relationship perfect.

He gazed at the photo of them visiting the nearest Pacific coast, almost three hundred miles away. The two of them embraced and smiled candidly at the camera, the wide blue sea stretching far behind them. Samantha looked so small in his arms, so delicate and feminine. It was... hot. He was almost six foot four, but she was barely five foot three. Her thin lavender sundress blew up past her knees with the wind, revealing her smooth, generous thighs and teasing the pillowy ass beyond. She was curvy, and her curly brown hair fell over her generous, milky cleavage. She raised a cowboy hat above her head, and her sweet, freckled face laughed joyfully into the camera. She was so secure in his towering, protective arms as he began to lift her off her feet like she weighed nothing. He was bare-chested, his tanned body muscular and his body hair refined. He was the perfect specimen of masculinity, vital to his football team, and the perfect American boy (his teachers always said so) when it came to his body.

Laurence flexed his wide shoulders as he looked at himself, proud of how in-shape he had been able to remain even during the summer. Though he felt guilty, he was still glad he had somehow inherited the ability to always be in good shape. There was no way he would have been able to keep up with it if it were up to him. He laughed to himself while he touched his firm abs, realistic with his qualities, and then applied his deodorant.

He went to the hallway phone outside the suite and ordered pizza to be delivered to the dorm hall around six. If no one else decided to steal some, he had figured two large pizzas could last the night, and possibly the weekend if he was frugal. "Yeah, this is Larry," he said, rolling his eyes with a smile as he heard a voice from the background yell the question. Undoubtedly that was Andy, who worked at the pizza place most weekends. And another reason he had opened the package early. Andy probably wouldn't be back until eleven or later.

"He says make it four," the employee on the phone replied, audibly smiling. She knew he was going to say yes.

"Only if he does the dishes tomorrow morning," he replied after taking a dramatic moment to mull the idea over. He waited for the message to be relayed and an answer to be returned, cradling the receiver in his shoulder and pulling on the cord.

"That's a go on the dishes."

"Righteous. Four."

"Got it. Two sausage and onion, two pepperoni. Six o'clock at Murphy. See ya, Larry."

Laurence didn't remember the person who had answered the phone, but she seemed to know him. She probably did, and he couldn't recognize her voice over the telephone. "Bye," he stuttered, just as he heard the dial tone. Strange. But at least he had the afternoon to himself, and future him would be thankful for the pizza. Then he bounced over to the small CRT television and closed the shades behind it before booting up his Atari. He sprawled himself comfortably on the couch and let himself zone out as he played Space Invaders, as smoothly as if he had it memorized. Every so often, however, his gaze would flick downward for just as second, nothing more, to the pink box on the coffee table at eye level. It kept distracting him, though he couldn't tell why, until he began making mistakes and losing.

"What the hell?" Laurence asked, letting the controller fall from his hands. He scowled, a little off-put, and picked up the box to look at the pornographic art on the back. His eyes slid down to a white box with black text. Most of the words had been smudged away by his thumb, but he could still read the word WARNIN-- at the front, and what might have been a yellow label that read DANGER beside it. He cocked his head in interest and tried to parse through the smudged text, but it was illegible. Probably warnings about children and toys. He bit the inside of his lip as his mind began to think of other meanings. What kind of danger could this strap-on possibly have?

So it had piqued his interest, so what. He sat up and opened the box, pulling out a plastic insert holding a tanned, erect penis--dildo. The texture was soft in his fingers as he squeezed it and pulled it out of the plastic. He nearly gagged as his fingers sank into the top layer of whatever soft material it was made out of, moving the "skin" around the shaft. It was surreal, human but not--and massive--tipped with a bright pink head that squished beneath his pinch. Then, beneath the round section which attached to the harness, a set of round, heavy testicles. Though they were completely hairless, naturally, Laurence was surprised at how... realistic they felt, how large and warm, which stirred a very strange sensation in his gut.

"Ugh, what?" he asked groggily, before holding the dildo at the end like a sword and shaking it vigorously to chase off the odd feeling that had fallen over him. He watched the shaft bounce as he raised it, bending in a gentle curve with gravity. He would give anything for a cock that magnificent...

As he reached back into the box to pull out the strap, he laughed at the ridiculousness of what he was doing. Was he really going to put on this shitty toy because he had nothing better to do? A toy for women no less.

The thought stirred another sensation in his stomach, and he cleared his throat as his cock unexpectedly twitched in his jeans. "Ah! Mmm," he groaned, the sound coming out breathier than he had meant it to.

With another clear of his throat, Laurence began to attach the dildo to the harness, and then unzipped his jeans and pulled them just slightly down, so he could slide the strap-on around his waist and under his legs at the crotch. He pulled his boxers downs as well, letting his cock and balls get pressed between his legs as he tightened the large dildo over his own sensitive penis. The size of the toy forced it to press heavily on his junk, but he adjusted himself once and pulled the strap tighter, jamming his balls up into the tightest cranny between his legs. He was forced to splay his legs as he walked, to keep from squeezing them together too tightly. Part of it made him feel good, forced to strut and show off his massive, virile testicles; but the other part of him was humiliated at the very idea of it! It was a very interesting line to be following.

Laurence groped his round asscheeks over his jeans and thrust his hips forward, his pose slightly doubting in its confidence. The strap-on bounced as he moved, and landed heavily on his junk. His hips jerked beyond his control as the pleasure shot through his limbs, and he clapped his hands over his mouth as he felt a strange noise coming from his throat--

"Mmmmhhnnn?!"

He drooled slightly, his mouth filled with saliva as the sensation of his penis strapped down by a larger cock turned him on. That was... surprising. He definitely wasn't a homosexual, but that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to have some kinks... right? He hadn't known it would make him feel this good, but now that he did, it was okay for him to have some fun. Right?

With a deep breath, Laurence reached down and grabbed the dildo around the shaft, groaning when each tiny movement sent tremors into his own dick. His feet shuffled backward, and when his calves hit the edge of the couch, he stretched himself slowly back onto it. Though he was careful not to bump the strap-on, he could still feel the smallest pressure changes between his legs, and--god, he could already feel himself dripping with precum. His lungs released a pent-up gasp. "F-fuck," he whispered, and lowered his hand to slicken it against the head of his cock. Then he grasped the large, erect shaft that did not belong to him and moved his hand backward, dragging the lifelike skin with his palm until he felt the rubber testicles bumped against his hand. "No fucking way."

How could it possibly have felt this good? Laurence's lip quivered, and he ran his empty hand through his short, dark hair. He could already feel himself beginning to sweat, his back warm against the corduroy as he slowly began to move his hand forward on the dildo.

Was this... what it felt like to jerk another man off? He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. Obviously not, but it didn't feel like masturbating either. It was an alien pleasure, and even the rest of his body felt sensitive and turned on like it never had before. His thumb brushed over the soft tip of it and he shuddered. He could feel the "urethra" nestled between the joints of his fingers, and the "skin" even made a strange, almost wet sound as he rubbed the layers against each other. His own balls felt squeezed tight, his modest cock compacted and almost invisible beneath the massive toy. But why did it feel so good? Laurence's hand moved faster, and each time he reached the long tip, he began to pull backwards with more force. It forced his genitals even further back, and it nearly hurt with the pressure, but he couldn't deny that it felt good. Too good. He shifted in his seat, curling his tailbone underneath him so he wasn't sitting on his balls, and splayed one leg wide off the side of the couch.

His hand squelched against the rubber and his own precum. He was ridiculously hot now, and he needed to get off this way. As if all his thoughts had entered a narrow tunnel straight to his core, Laurence could think only of finding a way to orgasm by crushing himself beneath the strap-on. It was... so much bigger than him. His cock jerked as it attempted to grow hard, but rather like what he imagined a chastity cage to be like, he found it couldn't with the limited space.

"Oh, yes," Laurence moaned, leaning his head back and gazing emptily up at the ceiling. "I want--fuck, I want it."

Slurred words devolved into something rather like a cross between whimpers and groans as he babbled sounds under his hot breath. He was close. He could feel it, reaching the turning point before orgasm. Rocking his hips as his pace quickened, and crying out once as his balls slammed into the crux of his legs, he became became blind to all else but the feeling of liquid, burning pleasure pooling deep within him. The tension was building, making his toes curl as he vigorously pumped the massive dildo strapped to his crotch. He could--he almost felt as if he were rubbing his own cock... strangely enough.

Laurence's mouth fell open, and his voice broke in a cry as he felt his cock, overly sensitive and nearly painful, spasm against his churning testicles. "Mmm--ahhhhh!" He arched his back as he moaned and a massive orgasm shook his entire body. His half-hard cock spurted several streams of semen underneath him, and even one out into the room as his hand pumped a wild, uncontrolled rhythm around the dildo.

In a moment it was over, and Laurence found himself back in the present, breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead. He lay sprawled against the couch, his arms dangling at his sides, the feeling of satisfaction leaving him just as quickly as it had come.

"What. The fuck," he said to himself. Now that he had cum, and he could feel his balls resting in soaked boxers, still pressed up against his legs, the realization of what he had done was hitting him. This had to be some kind of humiliation fetish, right? Stuffing his cock down and making it as small as possible to pretend he had another one? He could feel the strap-on, still laying heavy and warm against his legs, even as he followed the tiny paint impurities on the ceiling with his eyes. He... had to get this off as soon as possible. What if Rob came back early before he could clean it and put it back in the box? Lord, he had orgasmed with it, and Rob would never know. A sliver of heat stirred in his gut as he thought of the man holding it, not knowing what Laurence had done with it, but he stamped down the feeling. With a sigh, he pulled himself into a sitting position and reached down to unattach the harness.

His blue eyes grew as wide as saucers.

As he looked down, he saw his hand touching a cock. A real cock. A massive, real cock, still mostly hard, dripping with cum, and attached to him. Like, really attached. Skin on skin, and no harness to be seen. Laurence quickly pulled the large penis out of the way, and pushed the balls to the side to try to find his old genitals. His real genitals.

Nothing.

But as he poked and prodded at himself, he realized he could still feel his old equipment. He thought. Inside of him? Pulled up into the smooth skin between his new scrotum and his asshole and lingering just below the surface. With a shaky exhale, Laurence pressed his fingertips into the skin and gasped when he felt the bulges of... something.

No. This was crazy. He stood, letting out a tiny groan as he felt the real weight of the penis between his legs. It hung out of his boxers and jeans, past the end of his zipper, and still managed to hang partially erect. Still disbelieving, he touched the sensitive skin of his glans softly, and moaned under the pleasure that radiated up the shaft. Then he swallowed and waddled slowly toward the suite bathroom. These testicles were significantly larger and heavier than his, and he could feel them rubbing slightly against his legs as he walked. He was afraid he was going to get them caught somewhere. That didn't mean he wasn't enjoying the sensation of them, though.

As he rounded the corner and walked through the doorway, he froze in front of the large, counter-to-ceiling mirror above the sink. "Fuck." He hadn't even meant to speak, but the word had pushed its way out of him all the same. He stared open-mouthed at himself in the mirror, his eyes slowly moving downward as they finally saw the true scope of his new appendage. It hung slick and pale between his legs, reaching so far down his thigh he could scarcely even believe it.

With trembling fingers, he extended his arm again and brushed his new cock with the lightest of touches, and his knees nearly buckled at the sensation. "J-Jesus Christ." His voice was full of wonder, his drawl more pronounced after the stutter. How in the hell was this possible? He raced back into the living room and grabbed the box. His eyes scanned the text on the back desperately, searching for something that would give him a clue. Nothing. There wasn't much text on the box except for lewd catchphrases and lists of features. He looked inside and pulled out the colorful sheet of paper inside. It wasn't anything but a promotion for some of the company's other products. It was some obscure brand called AniMagic Toys, whatever that meant, and had other toys named such winners as Paws for Papa and A Night at the Races. Odd, but not what he was looking for. He turned over the box again and stared at the smudge in the lower corner. The words "warning" and "danger". What the hell was that warning? It couldn't have been this. This seemed more like something to celebrate, at least for him. It was obviously a toy for women, so maybe it pertained to them?

It was... well, it was strange, definitely mega strange, but it was also kinda... wicked. Laurence looked back down at his cock, and he giggled unsurely as a smile spread across his face. If this was real--Lord, would he have to make Rob look at it to make sure?--then he had just won a crazy good jackpot. With sluggish fingers, he wrapped his hand around his thick cock and squeezed gently, holding his breath as he did so. Moaning, he collapsed on the couch again, the muscles in his thighs tight as he fought to stay calm, to slowly move his hand downwards toward his heavy balls.

His knuckles brushed against them, and an electric thrill shot through him, but it disappeared like a stain of breath on a mirror. He moved his hand up and groaned at the tension growing in his erection. Full, tender, slick. Everything he had ever dreamed of having, and now it felt better than the best sex he had ever had. God, he wanted to have sex with it. It would have felt so much better than rubbing himself.

With one hand he focused on his long, thick shaft, and with the other he blindly prodded against the soft skin of his perineum, gasping each time he felt the odd lumps of his former genitals trapped up inside him.

"F-f-fuck!" he gasped, and his hand froze around his cock for a fraction of a second before he began to steadily pump his shaft, his fingers catching on the sensitive head each time they passed, his palm wet with lube and dribbling precum. His hand made wet, suctioning noises as he masturbated, his pace accelerating as he came closer to finishing. He needed this. He had been so good so far, because obviously he had been rewarded for his actions. His new cock was two or three times as sensitive as his old one, and his testicles were the same, as well as being large and prominent. He just... he just wanted to cum with this new massive cock. Was that so hard to do? He thrust his hips forward in a straight, rocking motion, and slowed his pace slightly as he squeezed harder. His hips jerked once, and he whimpered as he pumped his cock once, twice, three more times... and his balls churned, his hot seed spurting out of him uncontrollably as he bellowed.

His voice cracked as he yelled, and the sound turned slightly upwards as if in question. He arched his back and continued to rub himself, massaging his balls with one hand as his cock spent everything with its last few jerks. He had broken in this new, very real, monster, and he basked in the pleasure that rolled around in his spent body.