He was afraid of no man in a face to face confrontation. He'd been in two fights during his High School years, and had won both within seconds. He was...a tough guy.But right now he was backing away from his 5' 6" sister. Her face was beet red, her hands were in fists and she was STALKING toward him like she was going to eat him for a snack. "THAT!" she growled "WAS MY ART PROJECT. I SPENT SIX MONTHS ON IT, IT'S DUE TOMORROW, AND YOU JUST RUINED IT BY BARGING IN HERE YOU PRICK!"Rod put his hands. "This can still be salvaged."Vladimir was startled, "You can fix." Yeah, where's your laptop?"The old Russian pointed at his desk. I quickly scanned the search history and pulled up the site I was looking for. "I thought so. I remembered seeing part of a "Crazy Otto" listed at an arcade in Evansville. I can get what I need from it." Tournament is tomorrow. There is no time." Vladimir insisted. "It's four hours to Evansville. We can drive there pick it up and drive back tonight. I can put it all. I had nowhere to put it, so I kept it in my mouth, tasting myself and moaning as I did. My clit began to ache more as I teased it with the much bigger dildo. "You're about to be fucked by a real cock," I told myself. With a few squirts of lube and the willpower of the slut I knew I was, I placed the head of the cock at the entrance to my hole. I was ready.With a deep breath, relaxing my ass and praying in my head, I pushed the thick pink dildo into me. I couldn't help but moan like a bitch in. Among those things was a horse-hair fly whisk. It would make a super swishing sound but hardly do more than tickle her buttocks.Richard spent much of Tuesday morning rootling round in the attic. Inevitably he found plenty of digressions: photographs, letters, diaries and even an exercise book with a short story by his mother. He also found the fly whisk and it did indeed make a thoroughly impressive swish. He tried it out on his forearm and, sure enough, it stung slightly but left no more than.