Meanwhile, his erection maintained itself in full splendor, though he felt no slightest sexual inclination at the moment. There were, he could now appreciate, certain disadvantages to twelve inches.

"Mrs. Cobblestone," a PA down the hall announced. "Please collect your dog."

"Oh goody, Herbie's ready!" she exclaimed, getting up again.

"Herbie's a dog?"

"You know how it is. He thinks he's people. Oh, I hope his poor little cock doesn't hurt too much!" She bustled out.

Prior shrugged. Alone, he unwrapped his meat and contemplated it. Boar pizzle indeed!

Finally the thing subsided and he removed it. In the future he would be more careful what penis he wore when and where. His four incher had never really embarrassed him in public; his concern about untimely erections had been vastly exaggerated. Now, with the availability of the ultimate twelve-inch wish-fulfillment, his concern was genuine. He would not again unlimber that cannon unless he intended to fire it.

He spotted some small lettering on the base as he washed the unit out. He squinted to read the fine print.

It said: 100% PIGSKIN, Grade A Choice.

Grandma had been right.

Chapter Eighteen

"Tonight, the advanced exercises," Prior said, smiling with anticipation.

Oubliette shrugged out of her clothing. "Precisely. I've had a busy day. Have you ever tried to operate on the penis of a cancerous toy poodle?"

That would be Herbie. "Never had that pleasure."

"Fortunately it was a false alarm; the growth turned out to be benign, and I was able to save his member by skin grafting. Animals don't do well on artificial genitals; they don't understand them. But what a job!"

But surely worth it for Grandma Cobblestone, who would otherwise be dependent on her eleven year old grandson, or on bananas. To each his own lifestyle.

She fetched a box. "Now this is the Pipecleaner model. Useful for the tight vagina. I'm afraid mine won't do for demonstration purposes, not even with a stiff dose of alum, so you'll have to practice on the anus." She affixed the unit.

Prior peered down at it. The thing looked like a strand of spaghetti swishing loosely over his scrotum.

"Erect it," she said, lying prone and spreading her slim smooth legs. The sight of that perfect behind and the shaped shadows within it did the job immediately. His spaghetti advanced from cooked limpness to dry brittleness. It had been well named: it did resemble an old fashioned pipe-cleaner, one of the narrow furry ones that children delighted to use for making stick-figure animals.

He climbed on, bracing himself with elbows and knees. He lowered the member. It brushed across a prettily dimpled buttock but would not orient properly on the crevice.

"No hands," she cautioned him. "At least, not there. You have to learn how to maneuver it alone."

Prior grunted and shifted, and finally the thin tip scraped down to the deepest shadow between the cushiony creases of her derriere. He pushed—and it slid off below. He tried again, but this time made entry the easy way, in her vulva. At last he centered on her sealed little anus and drilled it down. But it was dry, and he penetrated only with difficulty and pain.

Prior withdrew, moistened the slightly odorous tip and column with saliva, and finally forced it in a couple of inches. The thing was so thin he was afraid it would break off. But once he navigated the sphincter he was all right; the remainder cruised deep into her warm bowel, and the sensation wasn't bad at all. The exercise wasn't really so difficult!

"Now try it on a moving target," she said. "Out."

He withdrew it reluctantly, as he had been thinking of jetting soon. Oubliette began bouncing her generous buttocks about. They rippled and quivered as though made of gelatin, fascinating him.

"In," she ordered.

He tried, but couldn't get a line on the jiggling pucker. Every time he got close, it moved, giving him at best a miss and at worst a painful dent in his slender implement. "But what's the point of this?" he cried, exasperated.

"Some day you may have to get into a ticklish virgin," she said. "Or it might be necessary to rape someone. I never want it said that you left my office unprepared."

What was she training him for—the war between men and women? This was more like hand-to-hand combat than love play! Certainly he never figured to drill any of his new members into any unwilling recipients.

Little did he know.

He finally zeroed in on the gyrating target and injected the hypodermic. But before he could climax, she stopped him again. "You've caught on to the technique. Now we'll try the triple fork."

"Triple fuck?"

"Triple fork. Once you master that, you're there."

"I'll settle for a good honest penis."

She disengaged, to his regret, and trotted across the room for another box. He watched her buttocks bunch and crinkle as she went. What he could do with the twelve-incher now!

The box was huge. Two feet long.... impossible! No penis could be that size in the flaccid state—not if it expected to find lodging within a human pelvis. Even a horse would be hurting!

Horse? He remembered the Sultan and his camel. Oh, no! Surely Oubliette didn't mean to make him attempt that!

The reality was even more amazing. It was not one penis, but three. Rather, one divided into three. The longest portion was indeed two feet; the others, couched like testicles at its base, were of normal proportion. But how could such an unbalanced tripod ever be used?

"This design dates from medieval days," she said, holding it aloft with a certain pride. "Devils used to employ it during black masses and such, but now the patent has passed into the common domain. It takes a really virile man to apply it successfully."

"Three rods?" Prior feared he wasn't man enough even to figure it out.

"Put it on. You'll see."

He put it on. The long shaft had a bone in it, so that it was always erect and needed no infusion of blood; the other two were flaccid. The weight of the trio yanked cruelly at his loin, reminding him that his socket had not yet healed completely.

Oubliette got on her hands and knees again and presented her handsome posterior. "Stations, men," she said.

Seeing her there, Prior finally realized what this weird divided member was for. The two small penes lifted as his hot blood filled them.

He came at her as he had the prior night, but with a difference. He had three members to insert. The long one passed between her legs and curved by her falling breasts to reach her mouth. The two lesser ones prodded simultaneously at her vagina and anus. It was tricky getting them aligned, but with patience and steady nerves he made it.

He concentrated first on the rectum, wetting down that penis and ramming it home until the sphincter yielded. Once he had that entry, the vaginal one was easy, though he did have to bend it around by hand so as not to withdraw the other. It would have been easier had they been in line instead of side-by-side—but he realized that then other positions wouldn't be feasible. No sense specializing into non-versatility! And the mouth-organ was already in place.

Vaginal, anal and oral—simultaneously! Those medieval devils had really known how to fornicate!

But he wasn't home safe yet. He was receiving sensation from all three extremities, and it confused him. Oubliette was sucking on the mouth-organ and clenching her sphincter on the anus-organ and performing her patented peristalsis on the center pipe organ. It was an organ symphony! He could have enjoyed any of the three melodies individually, but in concert they were too much. It was like juggling balls while walking a tightrope blindfolded—and his balls had been triply depleted the evening before. He did not know, literally, whether he was coming or going.