My heart is racing as I study my latest invention. It took me weeks to build this little device, and if it does what I’m hoping it will, I’ll be able to secure funding for my company.
All that’s left to do now is test it. If I fabricated it without any design flaws, then this little toy will make me orgasm harder than I ever have before — without making a sound.
I have sky-high expectations for a toy this small. To me, it’s far more than a sex toy. It’s a ticket to the fulfillment of my every hope and dream. It’s my road to independence.
My hands are trembling as I put it down and reach for the stupidly big bottle of lube I bought. A nervous giggle escapes my lips, the sound breaking the silence in my bedroom. Thank God for online shopping. I’m able to design and create sex toys without an ounce of shame, but the idea of buying lube has my cheeks heating in embarrassment.
I suppose that’s part of the reason I decided to create products like these, though. I wanted something obscure yet powerful, something you could use privately without worrying about the sound it might make.
My heart is pounding in my chest as I grab my little invention, totally unoriginally named Secret O. Yeah, I may need to rethink that.
I smile to myself as I carry the ridiculously large bottle of lube to my bed. I didn’t think the largest size they had would be this… huge. It looks like it’s a family-sized bottle of water. It’s weird, and it just increases my nerves.
Will I even be able to come when I’m this nervous? I’m not sure, but I’ll have to try. I’ve been putting the testing phase off, and the longer I wait, the longer I deny myself funding.
I inhale deeply as I open the bottle of lube. I can’t put too much on because my toy relies on suction to stay in. When I created it, I wanted to make something you can walk around with without worrying that it might slip out. Obscurity is what I’m going for with this one.
I’m trembling as I lie back and fiddle with the lube, taking my time and delaying the inevitable. I’m scared my toy won’t do what I expect it to do. I’m scared my hopes will all come crashing down on me.
I inhale shakily as I turn it on and push it in, taking note of the ease it slips in with. My eyes fall closed as my lips tip up into a smile. It feels good. Thank God.
I can’t help but giggle, relief rushing through me. It feels really good. There’s a small part on the edges that stimulates my G-spot, and it feels better than the touch of most men I’ve been with. It’s working perfectly, and I can’t hear a thing. No sound, no hint of the electronic device inside me.
I swallow hard as my thoughts fade away and desire overcomes me. This toy is good. The way it feels… there’s nothing like it. A soft moan escapes my lips, and I bite down on my lip. Yeah, I can’t resist that feeling for too long. I already want to come.
My muscles contract involuntarily, an orgasm catching me by surprise. I was not ready for that… and it didn’t feel as good as expected.
Damn it. I should’ve timed it. It felt rushed, like I didn’t come as well as I wanted to. I’ll need to look into that. Maybe different settings? A buildup in speed? I’ll have to try a couple of options and see how they affect my experience before we move onto further testing.
I throw my arm over my face and sigh happily. This is good. I didn’t expect it to be perfect, but it’s already far better than I thought it’d be.
Now for the real test, though… what will it feel like when I walk around with it? I’m nervous as I sit up in bed, moving carefully. This entire product’s appeal is in its obscurity and its staying power. If it slips out when I walk around, it’ll be a failure, no matter how good it feels. It won’t have a unique selling point other competitors haven’t already perfected.
My feet hit the floor, and I’m nervous all over again. Okay, so far, so good. I nod to myself as I walk over to my bedroom door, thanking my lucky stars I’m home alone.
Considering that I’m twenty-seven, it is perhaps a little strange that I still live at home, and right about now I’d much prefer not to. Testing my toy while walking around the house and worrying about someone coming home just makes my nerves skyrocket.
I rest my hand against the wall in the hallway, my eyes falling closed as yet another orgasm threatens to overwhelm me. Oh shit. This invention of mine is brilliant. Even now that I’m worried and overthinking, it’s still keeping me turned on. It isn’t slipping out — it’s not moving at all. It’s still perfectly positioned against my G-spot, and I giggle to myself. Amazing.
I jump up and down in the hallway, my giddiness increasing by the second. This is perfect. I’m grinning as I skip through the long hallway in my grandfather’s mansion, noting every sensation, every feeling.
It’s not perfect yet, but the key elements are all there, and they’re all working perfectly. I walk back to my room in a daze, turned on, proud, and relieved all at the same time. It makes for some powerful emotions, and my relaxedness almost brings me close to another orgasm. This time I smile and let my eyes fall closed as it washes over me.
It’s stronger this time, and the way my muscles clench around the toy only increases my pleasure. It’s almost painful, in the very best way, but I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.
I walk over to my bed and lie back, reaching for my toy. I freeze when I realize I didn’t 3D print the small handle I had in mind for it.
Fuck.
I swallow down my panic as I try to get it out, hurting myself with my nails and only managing to push it in further.
This is a prototype. I can’t be too rough with it, because if I break this, I’ll be back at zero — I won’t have enough time to build a new one in time for my investor meeting.
I tug at it, trying to grasp the edges and failing. It’s engineered to stay in using suction, and without something to pull it out with, it’s going to be almost impossible to remove.
What do I do?
My cheeks heat at the mere thought of having to ask for help. Who do I ask? My mom? She already isn’t happy with the way I’m choosing to put my engineering degree to use, and she keeps reminding me not to use the university’s facilities for my own research purposes. I’ve managed to get around that by explaining to her that it’s part of my PhD project, but asking her for help with this would lead to a breaking point for sure.
I hesitate before picking up my phone and calling my best friend, Leia. She picks up almost immediately, much to my relief.
“Hey babe,” she says, her voice as cheery as ever. The background noise tells me she’s outside, so with a bit of luck, she can come over.
“Leia, I need help.” Leia and I met at the start of our PhD program four years ago, and in that time we’ve been through enough craziness together for her not to bat an eye at my current predicament.
“What happened?”
I groan and pull a hand through my hair. “I tested the toy. It got stuck in me. I was stupid enough not to 3D print the handle.” She bursts out laughing, and I shake my head. “It’s not funny!”
“It is. Girl, I have a class to teach in five minutes. The soonest I can get to you is in two hours.”
I sigh and shake my head. “I have dinner with my mother tonight. You know what she’s like. I need to be ready in time.”
Leia pauses, both of us trying to think of a solution. “You need a stranger,” she says. “Someone that’ll just forget about this. Better yet if they can’t speak at all. A lawyer?”
I think of the ancient Astor family lawyer and burst out laughing despite the fear that claws at me. I can just imagine the look on his wrinkly face, and I’m tempted to call him just to find out how scandalized he’d be.
My smile melts away when I realize exactly what I need. “I need a doctor. Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that shit. I can’t go to our family doctor, though. I don’t trust him.”
“The college clinic,” Leia says. “That’s your best bet, and it’s close by.”
I nod, gathering my courage. “Okay. Yes, okay.”
Leia giggles, and I roll my eyes. At least one of us thinks this is funny. “Good luck, babe. I can’t wait to hear how that goes.”
Luck. Yeah, I’ll be needing a ton of that if I’m going to see this through.
