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the loneliness of the long distance butt pllug

11:57 am Friday, 27th September, 2013

the voice on the other end of the line was vaguely familiar. she had introduced herself A. and said the she was a very good friend of T.L.'s, and that we had met once in a club in Bath, and i'd said something very funny about Tony Blair that still made her laugh when she thought of it.
sitting at my desk, looking out of the window, i passingly wondered what witticism it was that had so impressed itself on this stranger's memory? i don't often have a great deal to say about Blair other than my conviction that the man's a cunt! Middle Eastern Peace Envoy? the rumours of the death of irony, it turns out, have not been exaggerated. and now Bush has a fucking library named after him... so that's the mortal wounding of satire too.
the sea mists are drifting, again. my mind is drifting and the strange voice on the phone (from the other side of the world for all i know) has begun to drift too. A., whoever she might be, seems momentarily uncertain of the purpose of her call. she repeats that we have met, and that we have a mutual friend in T.L. and adds that we had once spoken of... 'alternative matters'.
'you are looking for advice,' i tell her. i don't ask. i don't have the time to wait for her to eventually round on the subject of her call. so i prompt her, curtly, to get the point.
'there's no need to be embarrassed. just ask! i'm sure it's nothing i haven't heard before and i don't think you would have phoned if you weren't fairly determined to resolve the issue... whatever the issue is.'
her breathing alters. it's almost like a sigh - relief, resignation... it's hard to tell.
'yes,' she says. 'advice... that's it... yes!'
there's a silence then and i can almost feel her breath, as she holds it. it is not a long silence, or particularly significant. i can tell from the tone of it that she has loaded the question into her mouth and is only waiting for the moment when she dares to sound it.
'i bought.. a tail,' she says carefully, almost warily. 'it was very expensive.. real horse hair but... i haven't.. i haven't been able to.. wear it yet........'
'a tail...?'
'... yes.....'
'you mean a butt plug,' again it is not a question. statements are always more practical in such circumstances.
'... yes...'
she explained that she had seen a Pony Girl on the web, and she loved the look, and so, when she had come across such a pretty tail she she had had to buy it, only she'd never really 'put anything... up there' so now she was.. stuck.
'... as it were...,' her voice trailed all the way back to silence.
trying not to sound too unkind i tell her Pony Girls are a very particular breed. there's is a life choice and not the reflection of some passing fashion. a butt plug, i continue, is not an accessory and should never be purchased for its looks alone. it is not a handbag. (this seems, even to me, to be a statement of the obvious, but it is still early in the day, and i'm not well disposed to the foolish at such times).
this was, as it turned out, a woman who had never had so much as the tip of tongue in her anus - nor, she insisted, had she ever desired such a thing, and yet had spent over two hundred pounds on a designer butt plug. little wonder i was a tad 'short' with her.
'does the thought of wearing that tail genuinely excite you?" i ask.
'it does now,' she confirms.
'the thought arouses you?'
'yes.'
she confesses that she has become more fixated on it over the past few days and and has begun to fantasise intensely about how it would feel inside her, and how it might swish as she pranced around.
i tell her that this sounds much more promising and give her some practical advice about how she might train her anus to receive it. i tell her how she might encourage the little knot of her arse to open by massaging her perineum - that delicious seat of nerve endings that spans the space between the base of cunt and anus.
'i don't.. use that.. word,' she says.
'then learn to use it,' i tell her.
if she is liberal with lube and ensures that she is suitably aroused in whatever conventional manner she employs when she test his anus - with her finger first - then, i assure her, it will not be long before the tail is hers.
'never push it into you,' i offer, almost gently for me.
'instead allow yourself to open to it, allowing it to enhance the moment rather than overwhelm it.'
she tell me than that she is already wet, and we talk a little longer. but not much, as i have work to be getting on with.
before i hang up i take a little time to instruct her that she should not phone again if it is only to exchange niceties. I'm much too busy for that. but, i add, should she ever require... help - specifically with her anal training - then she is welcome to call at any time.
i hang up before she can thank me.
i have a great deal of work to be getting on with and i've already lost enough time for one morning.
outside the mists have begun to burn off.
somewhere, far from the village A., i feel certain, has begun her training.

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