Chapter 2
Richard sat behind his desk in a cluttered cubicle and peered over his glasses when I entered. He was good looking in a regular way, square chin, keen blue eyes, and blonde hair that hung limply by the sides of his head, athletic, popular, and madly in love with me. Why, then, did he inspire only faint nausea in me?
"Hi, Ellen, got it all finished?" he asked as he got up out of his chair. He pulled a stool over for me to sit on and fetched us both a cup of coffee. I had to be crazy repelling Richard's advances, I told myself. He was handsome and faithful and one day he was bound to be a success. Not in journalism, perhaps, but certainly in politics. Richard was a catch! "Now then, let's take a look at it," he said.
I passed the manuscript over and waited as he read through it. I felt nervous but not because he was reading it. Richard would like it. The editor was the one who made me quiver inside. He was crude and rude, he didn't care about my blonde hair or anything else I had, all he wanted was to get his own way in everything.
"This is great stuff!" said Richard. He put the manuscript down and gazed at me adoringly. "Harry isn't in his office yet but as soon as he comes in I'll take it to him. I can talk him into giving you the job, Ellen, I really can, all you have to do is say you want it badly."
"I want the job badly, Richard," I said.
"How badly, Ellen." Those blue eyes gazed deep into mine and I knew that there was only one answer he wanted to hear. How badly? I asked myself that, too. Badly enough to surrender to him and let him do all that he wanted with me? Richard and I had been out on dates and his tender, loving caresses had turned me into a lump of ice. No, I couldn't stand for him to touch me!
"That's not fair," I said softly.
"I know it isn't." He stood up and paced about the tiny office, his hands in his pockets, his face screwed up in a frown. "And I'm sorry. Only I get so frustrated with you, Ellen! Nothing I do seems to have any effect on you! I've taken you out, romanced you, wined and dined you, I've begged and pleaded, I've even proposed marriage, yet all you do is refuse me. So I thought I'd be hardnosed about it, tit-for-tat, that sort of thing. But I guess I'm not the hardnosed type." He sat down heavily and gave me a hangdog look. He was sort of appealing and cuddly like that but my heart was still made of ice. Eventually he saw that I wasn't going to come across and then he sighed and made us more coffee.
"You're really a nice person and I don't know why I haven't fallen for you yet," I said. "Maybe it'll come later."
"And maybe not," he sulked.
"Maybe not." He irritated me all of a sudden. Such boyish tricks! Why didn't he take me into his arms and crush me against his chest, why didn't he bend me backward over his desk and thrust his big pulsing cock into my defenseless cunt! I crossed my legs hastily and asked if he had a cigarette.
Harry, the editor-in-chief of the college newspaper, came storming through the corridor, bellowing about the nuts and weirdos who worked for the paper and how they all ought to be fired and expelled from school. His voice was crass and hoarse, and just listening to him made me shiver. How could I face a brute like that? Richard seemed to feel the same way. But when the shouting and the door slamming had ceased he picked up the manuscript and went into Harry's office. He was there for about ten minutes when he came back with the news that Harry wanted to see me privately.
Harry's office was a pig sty. Papers, empty take-out food cartons, books, clothes, and a smell of underarms filled the place. He sat back in his chair with his cowboy boots on the table and scowled at me. I shivered again as I looked into his little pig eyes. He was coarse and spikey all over, hair that stood up and out like bristles, one thick eyebrow spanning his low forehead, and he hadn't shaved for a few days. He was big and solid and wore a plaid shirt made of old blankets by the look of it, old dirty jeans, and a red bandana about his neck or what there was of it. "Sit down." The command had me sitting before I knew what I was doing. "This stuff isn't bad." He threw the manuscript at me and folded his hands over his belly. "Bit short on talent and polish, but not bad. I could see your being a reporter for this paper. But talent alone isn't going to get you there."
"Then what is?" I asked and my voice quavered annoyingly.
"You'll have to suck some cock, baby," he sneered. I froze up but not like before. Before I'd been normal on the outside, cold on the inside. This time my outward coldness belied the hot fires that roared up in my loins. It was confusing, bewildering, but something in me responded to his coarse, lecherous proposition.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Suck some cock!" he bellowed. His voice must have reached every corner of the office and I cringed to think what Richard thought of that. He had asked me to do the same thing to him once at a drive-in movie after I had refused to make love with him. His face had been drawn and desperate, he had pleaded me to give him at least that satisfaction, but I had rejected him as though he had asked me to eat a raw fish.
When I didn't answer Harry, he got up and walked right at me. He undid the zip of his jeans and pulled out a cock the size of a child's arm, thick, brown, veined, with a heavy pink head dangling off the end of that rubber hose. Hair appeared through the opening of his fly and the smell of masculine sweat invaded my nostrils. I didn't know if I was going to throw up or faint, and I was surprised that neither happened. I sat there and stared at that big snake near my face.
"Come on, you stupid bitch!" snarled Harry. "Suck it and you'll improve your chances by a hundred-percent. Just open your mouth and let it in. That's not so bad, is it?" I kept my mouth closed but I couldn't look away from that horrible, beautiful vision. It was like something out of my fantasies only much more gruesome. "Ah Jesus Christ, open up!" He had lost all patience and with one hand he forced my mouth open, with the other he dropped his dick in. "And remember, if you bite it, I'll rip your head off!" he said harshly.
That registered with me. I sat there with a mouth full of cock and tried to think of what to do next. Calling Richard was out of the question, I couldn't make a sound. Harry had a handful of my hair and held my head in place forcefully. That left me with no alternative but to think about sucking him off. But how? I moved my lips and got a grunt of approval from Harry. His hand tightened on my hair and he moved my face forward, then back, very slowly and deliberately, and as my lips slithered along the smooth tube of his cock I felt it grow harder and thicker. That fire deep down in my belly grew hotter, I was sweating, especially between my legs, and yet I was thinking of Richard, too. Good old Richard, who'd make such a fine husband and father, who would cut off his dick before he raped me, was sitting in his office while another man made me suck his cock. I felt guilty and excited about that, I imagined him walking in and catching me at it, and in my imagination I saw him mistake my intentions. He became violent, he fought Harry and then got started on me, and somehow he got on top of me and my panties came off ... .
"You're the worst blow job in the history of the world, baby, but if you keep practicing you just might make me come," snarled Harry. His cock was half-hard now and cramming itself deep down into my mouth. I wanted to gag and run but I was helpless. As my fantasy unfolded I began to lick his cock more and suck on it from pure lust rather than obedience. Cocks filled my mind: Richard's cock so long and slender and rosy, standing up out of his pants with the light of the drive-in's screen illuminating it for me. And Harry's, thick and rough and far too big for my mouth, pushing down my throat with those smelly balls banging against my chin and his rough hair brushing into my face. Yes, lick it, suck it, caress that big ugly snake and kiss it and eat it and drain it! The fantasy took second place to Harry for a while, and during that time I gave his dick everything I had. I kept running my tongue around the large rubbery head and my mind ran around in circles, trapping the scene as it emerged from my instincts. Harry and Richard, squaring off, breathing heavily as they moved their feet so as to get the drop on each other. I lay on the floor, my dress crumpled up around my waist, my thighs shamefully exposed, my hair a mess. There was nothing I could do but watch these two brutes as they prepared to do battle for my hand ... or some other part of my anatomy.
"No, no, don't!" I pleaded, but they paid me no heed. Their eyes were locked together, their fingers flexed as they neared each other, and suddenly, mutually, they leaped! Hard muscular bodies thudded, growls erupted from their throats, their sweat splattered over my prostrate form. I felt my insides constrict as I took in their rippling biceps, thick thighs, the hair on their bodies. "Please, don't fight over me!"
The men had each other in a deadly grip but neither had the advantage over the other. They pushed and pulled, they grunted, strained, and all at once they crashed down onto the floor, right on top of me. My limpness gave way to fear as I fought to get out from under the warring men. They were crushing me, hurting me, they had it in their power to break my bones! Harry's rough, big cock dangled over my face, Richard's long pink one wasn't far away, and suddenly the danger no longer concerned me. Dicks, cocks, dorks, two big ones and all for me! My hungry mouth opened wide to accommodate one and then, as the other came nearer, I took it inside as well. They kept on fighting but with less ardor, as their passions were bent toward me.
"Oh baby, go ahead!" I heard Harry say, and not long after Richard moved in closer so as to drive most of his pink dick into my mouth. My facial muscles were stretched to the limit, the searing pain adding a peculiar sharpness to my ecstasy. Yes, this was it, eyes closed, breathing noisily through my nose, sucking, licking, spreading my spit over all that male flesh, giving my fantasy full rein so as to stoke the roaring fires in my loins. What a delicious sensation! My pussy quailed and shivered, contracting convulsively as the two men fucked my face. Even when the fantasy was, dissipated by Harry's urgent directions, my delight continued to expand.
"That's better, now you got it," he rasped, pushing his stalk down my throat. To my own surprise it didn't bother me that he had passed the gag zone. It was as though my throat had been made to encircle cock, and that Harry had at last given me a chance to discover this natural function. I grabbed the two rock-hard buttocks and dug my fingernails into them as if trying to provoke him into giving me more. He had no more to give. With slow, rhythmic motions he eased his glans in and out of my throat muscles, sighing, quiet now that I had taken him past his anger. "Yeeeaaahhhhhh!" he gasped. "Great head! Come on baby, play with yourself a bit, give me a thrill!"
I took one hand off his ass and let it slip in between my thighs. His suggestion had been a timely one, I needed something down there very badly. How I wished he would throw me over his dirty, cluttered desk and rape me, fill that burning hole between my thighs, stuff it full of cock once and for all, and then extinguish those feverish fires with a full load of sperm. But I had to make do. A solitary finger slipped in between the restless muscles, deeper, down where the juices slopped about in noisy squelches. Could he hear that? I hoped so. His balls slapped against my chin, he showered me with his sweat, my universe was made up of his smell and his flesh, and when he came it took the top of my head off! Hot sperm cascaded down my throat, backed up, overflowed, and burst out through my nostrils, salty essence of manhood, a rush of passion that had him grunting and fucking and grabbing hold of me as if he wanted to kill me.
For a long time after he kept moving his dick in and out, running it along my lips, wringing every last drop of pleasure out of the occasion while it lasted. I just sat there too exhausted to do anything but submit to his wiles. At last he pulled away and put his dick away. "Not bad." He sat down, lit a cigarette, and picked up my article. "Okay, I'll let you know about this tomorrow."
He didn't say another word to me. I cleaned up as best I could and rinsed my mouth with water from his cooler before I went out into Richard's space. He must have heard everything, yet he gave no sign of any emotion other than the usual adoration.
"Hi, how did it go?" he asked.
"So-so," I shrugged, all the while eyeing him curiously. What was he, deaf? But then he told me he'd had to run an errand while I'd had my interview so naturally he hadn't been able to eavesdrop. I heaved a sigh of relief. Still, a real man would know from my appearance that something had happened. All I could taste was sperm. I kept running my fingers through my hair to see if any of it was caught there. Richard said encouraging things to me as I worried, and when he asked me to go out to dinner with him that evening I agreed to simply because I couldn't think of a good excuse not to.
Once out of the building I cursed myself roundly. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the evening with Richard. I wanted to stay in my room all alone and think about the experience with Harry, spin it out and improve on it a little, and masturbate the hours away. Nothing that Richard had to offer could even come close to what my mind could conjure up. But I'd said I would and I didn't need any enemies at the school paper, not at this stage of my budding career.
Back in the room Gina was preparing to go out on yet another date. I was glad to see her but she acted quite curtly toward me. Her eyes wouldn't meet mine and she rushed through her chores as if she could hardly wait to get away from me. In a way that was all right by me. Her absence would give me a little time to myself.
As I stood in the middle of my room I considered the first move. Nothing had happened yet and already my ever-alert pussy grew moist and warm, tiny trickles of pleasure ran through my belly, and my breathing became more rapid. I let my eyes run over the familiar objects, taking in my side of the room, then Gina's ... very slowly, observing her rumpled bed, the discarded clothes, the untidy heaps of books and papers, the open drawers in her desk, and instinctively I moved toward her side to become more closely involved with her things. I didn't allow myself to think about this too deeply. Any thrill was a good thrill, and if it was derived from strange objects, what did it matter? Slowly, a little fearfully, I sat down on her unmade bed and breathed in deeply to savor her intimate smells. I knew her perfume well, violets, a little overpowering perhaps. My face moved down toward the sheets. My nose penetrated the sheen of violets down to the human odors, sweaty sleeps and impolite dribbles, the real Gina.
Against my will I moved toward the center of her bed, heading for the part where the mattress had collapsed somewhat from years of bearing the greatest weight. Unmistakably, the scent of pussy rose from the sheets, and I gulped it in with a sob of lust. Memories of the previous night came flooding back now, her nakedness, the drop of fluid suspended among dark pubic hairs, her soft plump ass and those dark nippled breasts, every part of her excited me and made me yearn for more. Thrill-seeking, I told myself, but it was hard to believe when every fiber in my body pulsed with desire for her.
I needed more, more! My clothes came off and I stood by the side of her bed trembling, one hand lodged between my legs to emerge with a finger redolent with my own fragrance. It matched hers. And when I tasted it I knew how it would be to taste Gina. I seized the panties she had cast aside when changing clothes, panties fresh from enveloping her full buttocks, the contours of her cunt, panties privy to the most secret of her secretions, and pushed them up to my nose shamelessly. Ah yes, yes, there it was, stifling, rich, earthy, the scent of a woman. When I closed my eyes I was easily able to pretend that I was lying between her legs and that her pussy pulsed an inch or so from my face. With a muffled groan I sank back down on her bed and held her panties pressed tightly against my face while my free hand moved down to my throbbing clitoris and tried to comfort it with rapid manipulation.
I came suddenly and violently, crying out as my emotions exploded in a rainbow of ecstasy; and then, just as suddenly, it was over. I felt hollow, remorseful, and I couldn't wait to get her panties away from me. I threw them where I'd found them, sort of made her bed so she wouldn't know I'd been in it, and hurried off to the showers.
A lot of the other coeds were preparing for a night out, apparently, because the shower room was filled with billowing clouds of steam, fragrant with soap and shampoo. I hung the towel up and took my soap over to the nearest stall, only to find it occupied. For some reason it shocked me to see a naked woman emerge from the steam, and the obtrusiveness of her breasts and that wet dark patch between her legs caused me to blush and turn away my eyes.
"Hi, Ellen," said the girl. "Got a date tonight?"
"Uh ... yes," I said, and such was my bewilderment that I thought for a moment that she was about to ask me out. I hopped under the hot shower and let the water cascade over my head as if that would clear my mind. With a lot of soap and scrubbing I eradicated all of the sweat and the smells of my solo passion, and with effort I turned my thoughts to my date, Richard. He was such a nice guy, perhaps I ought to give him the break he so richly deserved and let him have his way with me, I dried myself off and walked back to the room where I promptly opened the windows wide and let in fresh air to dispel the stale. Not long after I'd finished dressing a phone call from the lobby announced that Richard was waiting for me to come down. Naturally. Punctuality was just one of his many virtues. He looked clean and happy, dressed to the nines, and again I got that urge to punch him in the nose. This urge rose up in me at least once every time we met. I wanted to kick him, hit him, snap him out of his nice guy rut. But I never followed through, and as a result he opened the door for me, made sure I was securely seated in his car, closed it, and smiled at me as he rounded the headlights.
"I know this great little place," he said, starting the engine and pulling out of the dorm's driveway. Cars were coming and going like planes at a busy airport, each one bearing a woman in the passenger seat and a smiling, clean guy in the driver's seat. I didn't know if I was bored or tired. "It's got terrific food and the woman who runs it is a real earth mother. You'll love it, Ellen, it's a sensualist's delight."
"Is that why I'll love it?"
"You're a very sensual person," he assured me. "I can tell by the way you dress and move, and by the way you wear your hair." Wasn't he the sensitive little fellow, I sneered to myself. Unwittingly my thoughts strayed to the meeting I'd had with Harry, the big hairy slob with his evil tongue and grabbing hands. I shivered and focused on something else. If only Richard knew about the kinds of things that really turned me on! He'd throw me out of his car while it was still moving.
Much to my surprise the dinner was a success. Food and wine took my mind off my sub-navel troubles, and the dim lights made it easier to forget what a clean-cut fellow my date was. Perhaps it was the wine more than anything else. In any case, when Richard suggested we go look at the scenery at some well-known lover's lane, I didn't object. It would be wiser to stay away from my room until Gina was asleep in any case, the day had brought enough confrontations.
Richard parked the car off a narrow dirt road that wound down to a small lake. A lot of cars were stuck among the trees and shrubs, and since we were all there with one purpose in mind, no one took notice of anyone else. He turned on the radio, soft music, fresh night air creeping in through the partially-opened windows, and the wine still had my head buzzing most pleasantly. Richard snuggled up to me, approaching me as if I was the mother and he was a guilty child. His head came to rest on my shoulder and one of his hands came in contact with one of mine. "It's been a wonderful evening," he murmured.
"Yes," I said, and my voice was softer than I'd wanted it to be. He snuggled some more, and at that point the effects of the food and wine gave way to that all too familiar coldness. He wanted me to be the strong one, the seducer, and I just couldn't get involved with that! If only he would understand that we might get someplace. I bit my lip and tried to fight down the rising anger but Richard kept on snuggling and pushing his face against my shoulder, making boyish noises of pleasure.
"C'mon Ellen, let's play," he said. "Did ya ever play house? Let's do that, let's play house, I'll be the daddy and you be the mummy, okay?"
"What!" He sounded like a five-year-old and I could hardly believe my ears. "Are you kidding?"
"Aw please, pretty please," he pleaded, embracing me and burying his face between my breasts.
I couldn't help myself. The anger built up too quickly and exploded to make me push him away and say: "Oh God, Harry, where are you when I need you?"
"Harry?" He talked in his normal tone of voice now and stared at me. "What happened between you two today? Did he touch you? Why would you want him instead of me?"
"Because he's a man and you're a boy!" I snapped.
He had no defense. like a whipped dog he sank against his door and buried his face in his hands. I felt very sorry for him but more disgusted, and was on the point of telling him to take me home when I recalled that Gina was there and that I still wasn't up to seeing her. There was no chance then but to stick it out here in lover's lane, to make the time pass amusingly somehow.
"Don't sulk," I said, feeling infinitely superior to him now. "Come here and give me a smile. That's the boy, smile for mama." He crept over to me and allowed me to hug him. He was mine to do with as I pleased, I could start him and I could stop him, so why not take advantage? A tingle ran through my loins. Why not indeed? With my free hand I caressed his shoulders, his back, and reached down to his ass which I squeezed and found remarkably squeezable.
I caressed his chest, undid a few buttons and got through to the soft smooth skin. No hair there. His nipples seemed to stiffen to the touch and it was possible to pretend that he had tiny breasts. Richard sat forward so that the flesh there was relaxed as if he wanted to give me a good feel. He lifted his face to me so I could kiss him gently but other than that he didn't interfere with my quest. Passive and happy to be passive, he allowed me to explore his chest and stomach, and certainly didn't flinch when I undid his belt to go even further.
My pulses raced as I opened his pants and slid my hand down under his briefs to get at his manhood. He was half-hard and I felt it grow as soon as my hand surrounded it. Blood throbbed in the heavy veins, inflating it, stretching it, making it thick and smooth. Heavy balls dangled below and his pubic hair was sparse and soft. My desire grew with every inch gained, and suddenly I wanted to see and feel all of him.
"Take all your clothes off," I commanded. Richard said nothing but I could tell he was delighted to strip. In the awkward confines of the front seat he managed to get his gear off in record time and promptly collapsed into my arms again. Pink and smooth and mother-naked, he was like a girl with a cock. Not a very big one at that, more like a toy cock. I held Richard in my arms and stroked his cock with the tips of my fingers, then encircled it with all five fingers and caressed it until his body moved up and down and his breathing became too intense. I didn't want him to come, I only wanted him to remain within my power.
For long minutes I stroked the very tops of his thighs, running the cutting edges of my fingernails along his hairy skin, plucking those soft little hairs teasingly, or squeezing his muscular flesh by the handful. He writhed about and moaned softly, his arms lying limply by his side. A study in passive acceptance. The nearer my fingers came to his ass-hole the more heavily he breathed, and when I finally let one fingertip touch down on those soft sphincters he let out a high sigh and his cock bobbed up stiffly.
He became especially excited when I leaned over him and my hair brushed his loins. I knew he expected a blow job but I didn't want to gratify him, I just wanted to use him. Still, that short, thick pink cock looked awfully enticing. My index finger still traced the outline of his ass-hole, causing his legs to spread and pull back a little so as to give me complete access to his body. And just as I gave in to his tempting cock that finger pushed down hard and entered his ass. Only the top joint of my index went in but the sound he made gave the impression that he had been gored by a bull. The sphincters gripped very tightly, a virgin ass-hole no doubt, anxious, protective, and yet he wanted more.
He tried to cop a feel for some reason but I rejected his hand and he seemed far from unhappy about that. My finger pushed back and forth, working the anxious muscles open so that more could penetrate. The second joint was in there now and the rest was following. It was warm and damp in there, a thick ring of elastic muscle followed by a soft billow of tissue. I noticed that when I crooked the top joint he became especially jumpy, so I kept doing that while my tongue ran back and forth along the length of his cock. At one point I almost blew it in more ways than one by getting him too excited and not paying enough attention. Just in the nick of time I managed to take off the erotic pressure and to give him a breather. That's when I learned that the aggressor has to keep a fairly cool head. I had been enjoying the taste of his cock and the inside of his body so much that I had overlooked the suddenly frantic motions of his hips. Richard wasn't too happy when I refused to take him all the way but I soon made him forget that. I took his cock all the way into my mouth and found him a lot easier to accommodate than Harry. Harry, the brute, with his big plunging cock, had nearly choked me.
Richard was, by comparison, a truffle, a delicacy to be sucked and savored after dinner.
A second finger joined the first, eliciting a groan of pain that died away as a moan of pleasure. Richard was putty in my hands, and for the first time in my life I experienced a rush of power. I could make him come, I could make him frustrated, it was my choice.
His pleasure became my pleasure. My nipples were hard and my cunt flowed over but nothing stimulated me except the sounds and reactions he came out with. When his body shook and jerked I felt my pussy echo those sentiments, and when he quailed I felt my chest swell with a fierce pride and lust. I fingered him harder and sucked him harder, working up to a pitch at which he seemed sure to blow-and then, with a cruelty that thrilled me, I drew my fingers out, let his cock flop back on his belly, and ordered him to lick my fingers clean.
"Look at that, they smell like shit!" I said.
"Don't stop now!" he pleaded.
"Lick my fingers!"
His trembling hands seized mine and he brought the fingers to his mouth, hesitated for a second, then sucked on them while his body went through all sorts of frustrated contortions. He wanted to be brought off so badly that I almost felt sorry for him. But I loved to see him grovel and clean my fingers, and I kept him at it until he had cooled down a bit and I was sure he knew who was in charge.
"Now bring yourself off," I said curtly. He looked at me as if he didn't understand so I repeated the command until he took hold of his cock and started to jerk off rhythmically.
"Take off your panties," he said shyly, "and give me something to get off over."
"Just keep on doing what you're doing." I watched him as he stroked his cock expertly but I wouldn't give in to his wishes. I found a cigarette in my hand bag and smoked it slowly. Richard seemed to be prolonging his flogging for as long as possible and that was fine with me. I had masturbated so often that it was a treat to see another human being go through similar motions. He closed his eyes the way I did and dreamed of situations out of his reach, varying the speed of his jerking-harder when the fantasy grew feeble, slower when it became overpowering. And finally it got too much for him, his fist gave a couple of quick, hard jerks, and the sperm blew out, arched through the air and splattered down on his belly, one thick dollop after another, until every last drop was part of the big puddle about his navel.
"That was wonderful, Ellen," he said. With a kleenex he mopped the puddle up and put his clothes back on. "This has been the greatest evening of my whole life." That boyish tone was still there, irritating me but apparently part of our relationship now.
"You like that, huh?" I shook my head and flicked the cigarette out of the window. "Well, I hope you enjoyed it because it's the last time for me."
"I know you don't mean that." He was too happy to take me seriously so I asked him to drive me back to the dorm. What a relief to get out of that spermy automobile I I waved goodbye to him and stood there in the night air for a few minutes, breathing deeply and working up the courage to face Gina. I worried that she had noticed her panties had been moved from one spot to another, or that her bed was strangely rumpled. But then I told myself that was needless, she was such a slob that such fine details never entered her existence.
Thus strengthened I walked up the stairs to my room. My only hope was that she would be asleep with the lights out so I could sneak by her and crawl into my own bed. I felt sure I'd be all right, given a night's respite.
That was too much to hope for. Gina was asleep but the lights were on. Her bed was a total mess, she was stark-naked, and clutched in her hand was a vibrator.