Crying didn’t help his situation one bit, and after a few minutes Dylan got himself under control. He turned off the shower and dried himself off, the bottle of shampoo inside of him making every movement awkward and uncomfortable, and put on some clothes.
Once he was dry and dressed in a t-shirt and loose pair of sweatpants, Dylan tried to come up with some sort of plan.
His first thought was Annie, but he dismissed that pretty much as soon as he’d thought of it. Even if she’d probably be willing to help him, Dylan would rather have a stranger in the emergency room rummaging around his ass for the bottle than his best friend.
Annie couldneverknow about this.
Dylan’s second thought was to call August. He was a doctor, and he had an office full of medical supplies and weird equipment that might be useful, and even though he’d said that he was busy until Tuesday, Dylan couldn’t imagine him not helping him out with his emergency. And this very much was an emergency. Dylan couldn’t be going about his day with a bottle of shampoo in his rectum. He was pretty sure that would be downright dangerous.
August might even get a kick out of it, Dylan mused. He obviously liked medical roleplay, and if Dylan asked him for help, he’d probably fuck him afterwards, too.
Dylan’s mouth watered and the craving for cock that had led him to fuck himself with a bottle of shampoo turned into overdrive. Before he knew it, his hand was on his cock and he was clenching down, trying to chase the feeling of having a knot inside of him.
When he realized what he was doing, Dylan let go of his cock with a cry of alarm.
This was not normal.
Before he called August and asked him for help, Dylan had to try to get the bottle out himself. In the shower he’d just pushed, but if he lay down and lifted his knees to his ears, maybe he’d be able to reach inside of himself and fish it out.
Hoping that he could get out of his predicament without having to ask for help, Dylan stripped off his sweats and lay down on the bed. He put a few pillows beneath his head and lifted his legs, bringing his ass up and bending his body until he was looking at his own taint.
Tucking his knees under his arms and thanking his lucky stars that he’d made such an effort to expand his flexibility when he was younger, Dylan probed his hole and pushed a finger inside to feel for the bottle.
Immediately, his rim protested the stretch. Without any lube to slick the way, even one finger burned like a bitch.
Dylan unbent from his pretzel-like position and jumped off the bed. He grabbed the bottle of lube he kept in his desk drawer and got back into position, staring at the stain on the ceiling as he lifted his legs and tucked his knees back under his armpits.
Pouring a healthy dollop of lube on his hole, Dylan slicked up his finger and pushed it inside. This time, with the lube easing the way, he felt only pleasure. The bottle was pressing against his prostate, and with the added sting of his hole being gently pushed open by his finger, the combined sensation had him moaning.
His cock twitched, a drop of pre-come dripping from his slit and landing in the dip between his collar bones.
Ignoring the pleasure, Dylan pushed another finger inside and found the top of the bottle. He tried to get his fingers around it to pry it out, but when he parted his fingers all he accomplished was pushing the bottle further up his rectum.
Panting, his cock leaking from the accidental stimulation of his prostate, Dylan relaxed and let his body move the bottle back down to his anus. He tried again to get a grip on it, but once again all he accomplished was to push it deeper inside.
Maybe he could use some sort of tool?
Releasing his legs and lowering his ass back down to the mattress, Dylan got off the bed and walked over to his kitchenette. He bent over and opened one of the drawers, rummaging around until he found a set of tongs.
They were the only tool in his kitchen that might stand a chance of working.
Climbing back onto the bed, Dylan lifted his legs back into position and lubed up the tongs. The rubber coating on the end of the tongs made them grippy – making them pull on his anal rim when he pushed them inside of him – but with enough lube it worked pretty well.
Staring down at his ass and seeing the kitchen tongs his mother had given him for Christmas as part of a kitchen starter kit, Dylan had the sudden feeling that he was in a dream. The moment felt no more real than when he’d dreamt that he turned into a boxing glove, and for a moment he wondered if maybe he was dreaming.
It would explain the hollow feeling inside of him telling him he needed to get fucked, because there was no way that feeling made sense in the real world – especially not now when he had a fucking shampoo bottle stuck inside of him.
Determined to get the bottle out of his hole, Dylan tried to open the tongs to get the individual pieces around the bottle, but he discovered that opening the tongs when they were inside of him was easier said than done. For the tongs to part, Dylan’s ass needed to stretch wider than the base of the bottle, and that was proving impossible. Dylan could get them open a little bit – the rubber coated tongs acting like the world’s worst speculum – but not nearly enough.
After ten minutes of trying, Dylan lowered his head back against the pillow and breathed an exhausted sigh of defeat. He was no closer to getting the bottle out, and the only thing he’d accomplished was to make himself sore and sweaty.
Worst of all, he still craved getting fucked. He kept picturing August and Ryker’s cocks, big and throbbing and beautiful, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost smell them.
Reaching into his hole, trying to grasp the bottle with his finger and failing to get a grip, Dylan let out a grunt of frustrated rage and pulled his fingers out of his hole. He lowered his legs and stared up at his water damaged ceiling, panting and sore, and admitted to himself that he needed help.
He climbed off the bed, wiping the lube off his ass and thighs, and pulled on his sweatpants. He picked up his phone, debating with himself whether or not he should call August or go to the emergency room.
There were significant cons to both options.
