Something nudged between Ottis’ cheeks. The plug slipped into his hole, teardrop-shaped, stretching him until its widest section popped into his body. Ottis wriggled to test it. The plug was comfortable, firm enough to press against his prostate without sending him into an orgasm.
The moment its flared base settled between his cheeks, something began to sing in a terrible nasally voice.
“Stuck in a butt
I’m in a rut
It’s so wet and juicy in here, I could cry
Hello world out there
This butt is so bare
I’m holding in a flood, oh my”
Ottis stiffened, fumbling with the blindfold. “What was that?”
“I... I don’t know either,” Doc muttered. He sounded confused.
Some rustling sounds. Doc helped to tug off Ottis’ blindfold, and by the time Ottis adjusted to seeing again, Doc had his mask back on.
The nasally voice was singing again.
Ottis exchanged a look with Doc. Then they glanced around, trying to find the source of that singing.
Actually... It seemed to be coming from between Ottis’ legs.
With growing unease, Ottis sat up, trying to look at the plug in his ass. It pressed against his prostate; he gasped and clutched at his alpha. “Doc? Could you...?”
Doc hefted Ottis’ hips up, took one look, and recoiled. “Fuck!”
“What’s wrong?” Ottis yelped.
“My job is to hold in cum
I’m such a good chum
But if you squeeze too hard
I’ll shoot out and poke you in the eye!”
Doc shoved his fingers back between Ottis’ cheeks, grasped the base of his plug, and pulled. It stretched Ottis’ hole as it slid out with a pop; cum gushed out of Ottis’ ass.
“Fuck,” Doc muttered. He turned the plug around.
There was a moving slit at the base of the plug. It opened and closed like a mouth.
The plug wassinging.
“Holy fuck,” Ottis whispered, horrified and fascinated all at once. “A singing butt plug.”
“Covered in pickup lines,” Doc added, carefully rotating it.
The plug was a mix of pastel rainbow hues, with short, straight white lines written on it like... lyrics.
“I should’ve looked closer before I put it inside you. I’m sorry.” Doc’s eyes were wide with horror.
“It’s... fine,” Ottis said. “It’s not sentient, right? Just spelled.”
