Foreword: It was pretty much a spur-of-the-moment decision to write this piece of flash fiction. Yesterday, I challenged a friend to make up a smutty story about their love of a particular appliance of choice and figured I’d do something similar. This is in no way based on my own personal kinks—with the exception of the…Bad Dragon monster dick. I really do want one of those! This story is all told in first-person narrative (because that’s so much more fun to work with) but I promise you this is purely fictional. Enjoy!
FYI – Bad Dragon monster dildos!
No Manual Required
It’s Wednesday, which means I’m off from work and get to do all those fun activities with my hard earned money; get my Poodle’s coat shampooed to perfection, go for a sexy gel manicure and…most importantly…I can catch up on the laundry. Now, this might seem like a mundane thing to you, but—I shit you not—there is joy to be had within the very act of the putting laundry on.
I peer into the circular orb of my washing machine drum, admiring the soapy frothed-up bubbles that swish around inside it like a tidal wave. This is only the first load of the day, but already I can feel myself starting to get wet just listening to the sound of that water rushing back and forth, crashing against the stainless steel so forcefully. My boyfriend is at work all day, but that’s not going to stop me from engaging in some solo play right at this very moment. Because even when he’s not here to ravage me senseless from behind, I can make myself come just fine.
I slip a hand into my knickers and feel all the way around the perimeter of my throbbing, hot cunt. My labia is soft, like a velvet ribbon. I tease it carefully, tilting my head backwards and closing my eyes to take in the sensation. I push my index finger just a couple of centimetres inside my salivating orifice—enough to coax some of those primal juices out. I pinch at my rather prominent clitoral hood, flitting my fingertip quickly over my aroused clit. This is already more than enough to cause a brief moan to escape from my mouth.
It’s true, I am turned on, but my fingers can only do so much for me. I need more. And I know exactly what I need, because I’ve experienced it before. What I need is the incomparable feeling of fucking myself on top of the washing machine; the vibration, the power, the whole damn ride.
But first, I hobble into the bedroom, still involuntarily twitching as I finger myself. As though possessed by a lustful ghost, I grab my favourite seven-inch dildo from the drawer. This baby has ridges and juts in all the right places—it’s one of those custom Bad Dragon monster dick designs that I bought last week. Specifically, the one inspired by the movie The Shape of Water. Well, what better way to try it out than have it thoroughly violate me while I’m on that machine?
The laundry is set to spin, rinse and drain—the longest and roughest setting there is. I don’t care that the electricity bill will be through the roof. Every time I switch this washing machine on, it’s absolutely worth it in the currency of pleasure. As for my boyfriend, he just assumes we use up our clean clothes quicker than most couples do. No, sweetie. I’m just wearing the poor thing out because that’s what I get off with when I’m all alone.
I toss my skirt and knickers off completely and clamber up onto the thumping, whirring beast of a machine. I place my Bad Dragon down and reach for some Blu-tack to keep the thing down. After all, I don’t want it to move around while I’m working my magic on it. With that, I get into position, spreading my legs and bending my knees so I’m hovering just above the tip. The washing machine shakes me around like I’m in the middle of an earthquake, and makes my heart beat with anticipation of getting myself off in this state. I want this fake silicone monster dick inside me like I’ve never wanted anything before. I know what set me off. I’m especially horny after watching a rather dashing doctor doing his thing in a TV drama this morning; mmm he was a bit of a treat for the eyes. Without further ado, I slip myself onto the patient Bad Dragon. The tip tickles and tantalises me as the nodules create a rough friction against my swollen walls.
Ah, that’s good.
Oh, that’s very good!
I take him all in. He fills up my cunt just as I imagine a real monster would. I can feel my muscles tighten around the rubbery texture as I push myself all the way down, and down, and down, until the base is pressed hard against my wet lips.
Believe me, I’ve had bigger dicks inside me, but Bad Dragon is so much more sensual than any of them. So much more satisfying. It’s like someone maxed out their new condom design, making it more than just a little ‘ribbed for pleasure’. I gyrate up and down on my toy gleefully, revelling in the wet, sucking sounds it makes, as though quickly pulling a lollipop out of one’s mouth. I’m practically dripping now, my cunt producing so much natural lube and the smell is driving me insane. With the way the washing machine is bouncing around so haphazardly, it feels less like I’m in control and more like Bad Dragon is fucking me. It’s surreal. The machine trembles and stutters beneath my ass, sending a sturdy pulse right up into my rectum. Oh god, I’m going to have to shove something in there to really make this situation work for me.
I notice the bottle of Yakult I took out of the fridge earlier. Perfect. It’s exactly the size and shape I can fit into my asshole. I stretch my arm out and manage to flick the bottle towards me so I can grab it. I align the top of the bottle with my back entrance and gently push it in. It’s not as hard as I imagine. My ass is already pretty loose from all the anal I get, and I’m wet enough that the bottle slips in, nice and easy. A few more centimetres and it’s comfortably plugging me right up.
Now I’m fucking the big Bad Dragon on this Bucking Bronco of a washing machine. As it ticks over to the fast spin cycle, the tempo picks up. Using one hand to keep my balance, I lift my top and slip my other hand underneath my bra, letting my breasts free. They feel so full and heavy as they slap against my torso in time with this thundering oversized vibrator I’m riding on. I take my left nipple between my thumb and forefinger and apply pressure in short yet firm bursts. This sends signals all the way down to my clit, which seems to perk up with each new twist. If I had a cock, I’d be so damn hard right about now, let’s say…a hundred and twenty-degree angle. Every orifice and erogenous zone is being stimulated, with the exception of my ears—but what, am I honestly going to bring the cat up here to fulfil that role? I don’t think so. I may be a pervert, but you can’t expect me to go to such lengths to make myself come.
This is seriously one hell of a monster dick. Fuck. My cunt is drooling so soppily all over it that the initial friction should have worn off by now, but it just keeps on giving me more like the good boy Bad Dragon ironically is. Yes.
The washing machine reaches its peak, and so do I— crying out as all those sweet, clear juices eject ferociously from within me and spread along the hard plastic surface of the appliance. The drops meld together, hitting the floor in succession and forming a cascade of wet joy.
I hear the pitter-patter of paws approaching and realise the cat has entered the utility room. She spots the mess I’ve just made and walks over to lap it up.
I slap my forehead.
“That’s my pussy juice.”
Note: (I apologise for this ending, but I only did it for the double-entendre!)