Just Follow the Instructions..

"Alright. We'll open it together..." Bridget finally replied, tilting her head as her eyes locked onto his as she implied it was time for him to introduce himself properly.

"Oh, ugh, right. Malcolm Di Donato; but most people call me Mac." the young man said, extending his hand. Bridget took it and shook it with a gleam in her eye. He was easy on the eyes now that he didn't look like a lobster, but it'd be a few years before his boyish face would thin out and mature into what she considered handsome. She guessed from his surname that he probably wore his unkempt longish hair slicked back in the Italian style popular in Old Chicago when he wasn't wearing a hat, and judging from his clothing fancied himself a snazzy dresser; almost certainly spending what little actual money a courier made on the best second-hand clothes he could afford.

"Nice to meet you, Mac. Now let's see what the boys rigged up for me," she mused as she ripped the brown paper wrapping from the heavy duty cardboard box. She smiled when she saw the card on top that was signed by the entire crew.

"Bridget,

Thanks for being such a hard worker, and all the happiness you bring to the shop. Hopefully this gift brings you a share of that happiness in your own life. I worked on the leather, Mike on the shaft, and Doug on the motor. Instructions are on the back of the card. -Sid and the boys

p.s: You should file a patent for this doohicky."

Bridget held her hand to her chest, tears welling up at the kind words written by her coworkers. Mac looked at her quizzically as she wiped a tear from her eye with a joyous single laugh and a small sniffle. She sat the card down and tore the packing tape open like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Is that some sort of muffler?" Mac asked, peering into the box. Bridget glanced up at him, a mischievous smile on her lips. She slowly shook her head as she lifted it by the padded, saddle-leather straps to reveal it in all its glory. The most striking feature was the mirror-polished 2 1/2 inch thick, 10 inch long chrome phallus that attached to a padded black saddle leather front plate; the inside housing two rows of 1/16th inch ball bearings that rolled inside two rubber-coated curved tracks that would flank the clitoris of the wearer.

Below these, the front plate curved down and was riveted to the .1cc microdiesel two-stroke engine attached to a custom camshaft positioned in such a way to imply a pair of testicles. 1" thick chromed and perforated exhaust pipes arced up gracefully until flaring out and curving up and around the side straps before opening up to the rear; the entire length of which was painted in vehicle-grade cherry red and orange flame patterns.

In the center of the crotch sat the 3" rubber coated piston housing that would be inserted into her and housed a 4" long, two inch thick rubber coated shaft that would penetrate her a total of 7 3/4ths inches at a cyclic rate of 50-100 penetrations per minute, a series of three curved, slightly raised, and smoothed pressure plates that would actuate the pressure line running down the front plate and into the shaft while also acting as pleasure enhancing ridges, and the final valve that would open when she tightened sufficiently enough at 15lbs of pressure. She noted the crotch plate was adjustable up to an inch and half backwards by setting the camshaft back; thus allowing a sufficient entrance hole for something else to penetrate her vagina while anticipating using the piston in her anus if she so desired.

"Beautiful..." she said with a hint of awe in her voice. She sat the contraption down on the table, Mac's eyes locked on it as he began to realize what he was looking at. She flipped the card over to see the instructions Doug had hand written, detailing how to operate it. Bridget read the instructions aloud as she followed them.

"Twist shaft 1/2 turn to remove from harness."

"Twist fluid seal opposite direction to access fluid reservoir."

"Fill with fluid." She glanced up at Mac, biting her lip before she continued.

"Reseal reservoir and reattach."

"Fill tank on piston housing from below with 4 oz diesel fuel using gas cap. (full tank on the house)"

"Insert piston and housing." She stood up, unbuckled her jeans, and slid them down her legs. Mac sat in stunned silence as she sat it on the floor before placing her feet on either side of the central plate, leaned down, and drew it up her thighs. She sighed and used her left hand to push the housing into her eager sex. The ball bearings hugged either side of her engorged clit as the rails gently pushed her hood away.

"Strap into place." She tightened the black saddle leather straps until the harness hugged the curves of her hips tightly, the design distributing the weight evenly and making it comfortable to wear. She looked down at the chrome cock jutting from the front, a quiver entering her voice.

Push button below piston housing to start." She looked up at Mac, her eyes burning into his as she tilted her hips back, her hands resting on the exhaust pipes. He swallowed hard, realizing that was his cue. He timidly extended his fingers under the piston housing and found the red button. He held her gaze as his finger depressed it with a solid "click." Bridget's eyes immediately clouded and mouth parted as the piston roared to life, the thick shaft rising inside of her as the smooth pressure plates hugged her inner walls in low gear.

"To...to change gears...to change gears press the button again for 50, 75, or 100 PPM." He ran his free hand down her thighs as small puffs of smoke floated out from the exhaust; the engine humming quietly. He pressed the button again causing Bridget to pitch forward and clamp her legs shut as the engine hummed louder; forcing the piston to penetrate her fully every .8th of a second. She started moaning as her legs shook, her grip tightening on his shoulder. "More..." she begged on hot breath. Mac clicked the button again, the piston hammering into her rapidly and with enough **** to rhythmically tighten the harness sufficiently to get the ball bearings moving on either side of her clit. "Ugh! Ugh!" she whimpered as her pussy started to contract around the pressure plates.

Mac saw a small button with a lightning bolt painted onto it between the two rows of ball bearings. He didn't know what it'd do, but he had an idea. He pressed it and watched as a small amount of nitrous oxide within the piston housing jet into the fuel mixture, forcing the piston to rev up to an astounding 180 PPM; or three penetrations per second.

Bridget's knees buckled as her pussy clamped down hard, opening the final valve that **** what air was in the shaft to jet out the front forcefully enough to blow a strand of hair away from Mac's face and make a sound like a miniature train whistle. She collapsed onto his body, cumming again and again as the piston **** her liquid sex to squirt out the sides and all over her thighs, his trousers, and the floor. Her mouth was wide open in a silent scream as her shaking hand desperately located and pressed the ignition button a final time. The engine powered down, the final penetration slowly lowering the soaking wet piston back into its housing to rest.

Her breath was fast and deep as she quivered on the stranger's lap. "That was the hottest fuckin' thing I've ever seen." Mac said quietly, his member swollen and testicles painfully full as the pale redhead buried her face into his chest, nails dug deep into his shoulders as afterquakes racked her body. Slowly, she lifted her head.

"It still needs to be filled up for a proper test..." she seductively whispered as her eyes met his. Mac kissed her suddenly, passion and lust coursing through them as she tore at his shirt while he pulled his belt apart so hard that he broke a belt loop. A thought entered his head.

"Um, how do we do that?" he asked between kisses. She grinned wickedly as she turned the shaft, holding up the end that connects to the harness to reveal a split in the thick rubber seal that opened when it was unscrewed.

"Oh."