My Little Brownie Cupcake

This story is classified in the Anal section. If you wouldn't like a story that concerns the fun and pleasure of anal sex, or if you found such an interest to be repugnant, then you should not read this story. This story is also best read as a sequel to The Lessons, Chapter 11, which perhaps could have also been classified within the Anal section.

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Sara was making cupcakes and brownies with her mother. They were for the Templeton Harvest Festival. It was a great tradition. There would be quite a few arts and crafts booths, games for the kids, treats for everyone, and even a beauty pageant for Harvest Queen. Everybody in the town was invited.

Ever since she was a kid Sara had participated within the Templeton Harvest Festival by baking pies with her mother for their own family booth. The Kirstin family always baked the traditional apple pie. However, there were lots and lots of other pie booths. There were booths for pecan pies, pumpkin pies, chocolate chess pies, sweet potato pies, cherry pies, key lime pies, rhubarb pies, blueberry pies, peach pies, lemon meringue pies, strawberry pies, coconut custard pies, blackberry pies, raspberry pies, sweet banana pies, apricot pies, pear pies, raison pies, mincemeat pies, razzleberry pies, zucchini mushroom pies, tofu black bean pies, and spicy clam pies. Templeton loved their pies.

Which was why Sara decided, now that she was 18 years old and could host her own booth, to make cupcakes and brownies. Sara's mother was not terribly encouraging of this apparent "adolescent rebellion." She was concerned, as a mother would be, that cupcakes and brownies really would not compete with the town's love for pies. But, Sara wanted to give it a try and her mother could not dissuade her. You could always count on college students to push the envelope through to the more radical of choices. Sara's mother though did at least help her with the baking, and Sara appreciated that support.

Sara was, however, distracted as they mixed and baked. Not surprisingly for a young lady, she was thinking about a boy; more specifically, George Reynolds.

George and Sara had been dating now for a few months, and it was evident that George loved Sara very much (see The Lessons, Chapter 11). At least he felt it was love. Young love can be very unpredictable, unstable, unreliable. But, at this point in time, for these weeks in time, even for these few months in time, he could not see himself ever loving anyone more than Sara.

Sara might in fact, in turn, feel the same way. Well, actually, she felt that George might be the best thing that had ever happened to her. She wasn't sure it was love. She did like him very much. And, it might indeed be love. But, she wasn't sure.

As the one who in the end, ends the relationship, often says, "It's not you, it's me. You are a great guy. You will make some girl very happy. There really is nothing wrong with you. That isn't it. It's just me."

Sara, sadly enough, felt she could say these things with all due sincerity. It wasn't that she didn't want to see George anymore. She enjoyed his company very, very much. She loved to be with him. She liked how he was there for her, how he listened to her, how he laughed at her silly jokes, how he did in fact seem to be sincerely concerned about her, how he stood up for her, how he was available for her. What was then the problem?

It wasn't that he was unattractive. George was no Johnny Depp or Keanu Reeves. But, she wasn't actually holding out for that. And, in any case, George was in fact a pretty good looking guy. He had nice symmetrical features; teeth that shown well with his engaging smile; soft, dreamy eyes; and thick, wavy hair. She really did find him to be quite attractive. Many girls would.

So, what was the problem?

The problem in this case really was her.

The problem was that he knew her secret predilection. He knew what she really liked. Or, at least, he felt that he knew, and as long as they stayed together it might become more and more difficult for her to convince herself that it wasn't really true or, if it was true, that she would or could ever change.

The way she looked at it, it was like having a drug problem that was shared by your boyfriend: a co-dependency. As long as George and Sara stayed together they would convince each other that it really wasn't a problem, that neither of them needed treatment, that they could share, even revel, in their pathology as if it was a valid, appropriate, healthy choice.

But, in this case, it wasn't drugs. Neither of them had any drug problem. In fact, neither of them had ever done any real drugs, and they didn't even enjoy drinking. They were, of course, too young to drink. That didn't stop many of the college students at Templeton from occasionally imbibing, even to excess. But, even if Sara and George were of legal age, to drink, they wouldn't have been heavy or frequent drinkers.

Alcohol or drug co-dependency was not the issue.

Sara was worried instead about a sexual co-dependency, a paraphilic co-dependency.

She had come across this disturbing notion from her psychology professor, Mr. Baldwin. He taught the Abnormal Psychology course at Templeton College, and he suggested that co-dependency could occur with regard to many other inappropriate, harmful predilections beyond just abnormal drug usage, including paraphilias.

And Sara wondered if she, indeed, was some sort of a sexual pervert.

The fact is, she really enjoyed anal sex. She wasn't sure why. She just knew that ever since Mr. Peters gave her the spanking and, more importantly, made her wear the anal cork (see The Lessons, Chapter 1), she just couldn't get enough. The source for her predilection was not, of course, Mr. Peters' cork. The disposition was probably developed years before (see The Lessons, Chapter 11). In any case, it did seem to come to full actualization with George.

She was so surprised, and at first so happy, that he seemed to like it just as much as she. She no longer felt alone. She had found her soul mate, or at least her butt mate. It was so nice to be able to openly enjoy her unique predilection with someone else, without feelings of guilt or shame.

But, her comfort did not last long. The uncertainty, misgiving, doubts, and even guilt and shame, eventually returned. Even worse, she wondered if a relationship with George was actually a mistake, a big mistake. What if all that had happened was that she had just found someone as sick and debased as herself? The fact that two addicts don't question their habits doesn't make them normal, right, or healthy. The fact that two criminals don't question the morality of each others' acts of wrongdoing doesn't excuse or negate their depravity. What if Sara and George were only kidding themselves, rationalizing a twisted and grotesque sexual sickness into the appearance of a consensual choice among two adults?

As she drifted through mixing, pouring, and baking, Sara considered confiding in her mother. This was, perhaps, precisely the sort of thing that one should talk about with one's mother. Maybe liking anal sex really wasn't a perversion? She would feel so much better if her mother just patted her on the back and reassured her. But, confiding in her mother was totally out of the question. Heck, her mother would not even approve of her having sex, let alone anal sex. Sara considered her parents to be among the most conservative and restrictive parents imaginable. There was no way she could talk to her mother about this.

She decided that she was going to have to tell George the next day during their study session together, at the library. She would tell him that they should take some time off from each other, meet new people, try different lifestyles. After all, they were still young, only 18 years old, and who knows whom else they might meet? It was probably the best decision for both of them.

It was a topic, though, that was so difficult to broach. She didn't want to bring it up at the beginning of their session. How could they study after that? But, was it fair to put it off? She couldn't decide, and so the decision was made passively as she kept putting it off, hoping that the time would not come. But, time seemed to pass so fast, a rather unusual experience when studying. When there was but a few minutes left before she would have to go home, she turned to George. "Georgie, I need to tell you something."

George, however, nipped her in the rosebud. "Well, great, sure, but first, I want you to open this." He had bought her a present. He was so sweet. She looked at it for awhile. What should she do? It was always hard to break up with someone right after he gives you a present.

"What is it Georgie?" she asked, shaking the small package, trying to hear any clues as to what was inside.

George smiled proudly as he enjoyed her confused curiosity. It was at times unclear who enjoyed presents more, the giver or the receiver. "Won't say, Sara. That would spoil the surprise."

They were sitting next to each other in a back, corner table. She leaned over toward him and gave him her best coquettish smile, which was quite difficult for George to resist. To George, or perhaps to many of the students at Templeton College, Sara might be the prettiest girl on campus. She bore a striking resemblance to Kristin Davis. She had her large brown eyes, rosy cheeks, perky nose, engaging smile, and long wavy dark hair. Even her voice reminded George of Ms. Davis: the innocent, sweet, feminine inflections. It was like he was speaking to a young Charlotte from Sex in the City dressed in the Templeton uniform: white blouse, black tie, plaid skirt, white socks, and the black Mary Janes.

Sara had promised him after their evening of homework (see The Lessons, Chapter 11) that she would someday come to his house to watch Sex and the City with him. Her parents wouldn't let her watch it at their own house. They considered the show to be much too risque for a young lady (and even for themselves). It didn't matter that Sara was 18. It was just the type of television show that they felt was inappropriate for family viewing.

In any case, their evening together of Sex in the City had been an evening George would never forget. Sara pretended to be Kristin for him. She knew of the resemblance and George's pleasure with it. She didn't mind. In fact, she took advantage of it, extending Kristin's dialogue during the show with her own more playful, flirtatious whispers into his ear, playing with his thing with her hand as they watched the episode, and even using her mouth on his penis when Charlotte appeared on the screen, letting him watch her as she pleasured him, imagining it was Charlotte with her mouth on his cock. They were watching a rerun, a particularly appropriate rerun: Episode 4 (Valley of the Twenty-Something Guys) in which Charlotte struggles over whether to have anal sex with her new boyfriend. Needless to say, George and Sara altered the ending, as "Kristin" acquiesced to George's repeated requests, and quite willingly so. Sara though pretended to be terribly ambivalent about it, as Charlotte would be, squealing that he was really much too big for her and that it was just so terribly naughty, as George plunged his hard cock deep down into her dark rectum.

"Is it like a blouse or something?" Sara's voice woke him from his reverie, but not until he could feel the swelling begin within his slacks. "Can't you just tell me that?"

"No, it's not clothes." He didn't really want her to guess, but he wasn't too worried about that. Sara was awfully bright, but not too many girls would guess this present.

"Really? No?" She had been almost certain that it was something to wear. The box though was a bit small for a blouse. Maybe though it was a scarf, or maybe even something more intimate. Panties? Georgie had never bought her anything like that before. She giggled at the thought of Georgie going into the Victoria's Secret at the Templeton mall, picking out a pair of panties for her. If it was panties, she so wished she could have been there. Not because she would want to veto his selection. She knew that she would like just about any panties that he would buy. No, that wasn't why. It just that he would have been so cute as he struggled with embarrassment as he picked up and studied the different styles.

As she thought about it though she realized that the box was a bit heavy for a scarf. It wasn't real heavy, not as heavy as a book. But, certainly more than what a blouse, scarf, or lingerie might weigh. "Is it jewelry?"

George smiled. "Wrong again, but you do wear it."

She was glad it wasn't jewelry. That would be too extravagant. George couldn't afford to buy her jewelry. However, now she was really curious, and confused. "It's not clothes. It's not jewelry. But, you wear it?" What could it be? Maybe George didn't understand about some types of clothing. "You know lingerie would count as clothes, Georgie."

George furrowed his brow. "I know that. I'm not that stupid."

"Sorry, Georgie, I know. I'm just at a loss to think what this might be." She shook it again. Maybe a watch? Does a watch count as jewelry? But, the box was too big for a watch, and why would Georgie buy her a watch? "Georgie, I just don't know. Give me a clue."

"Well, okay, um, think corsage."

"Corsage? No way. It weighs too much for that. C'mon, I don't know. Can I open it now?"

"Well, it is a little personal."

Her smile turned to a big grin. She was now even more intrigued, if that was possible. She looked around the library. "There's nobody around, at least back here. I want to open it now."

He could see that she didn't want to wait any longer. It was in any case fine with him. He had been expecting her to open it right away. "Sure, go ahead."

"Oh goody!" she exclaimed with evident delight. She ripped into the wrapping, although quickly slowing down, as the frantic tearing was quite noisy and it was drawing some attention.

"Georgie!" Sara whispered, as she discovered what was inside. Carefully wrapped in soft tissue were three pink butt plugs, each a different size: small, medium, and large. She blushed as she lifted the smallest one out. "I guess this is something I would wear."

"I thought perhaps these would be better than those old corks."

Sara's coloring became even a deeper red. Ever since the spanking by Mr. Peters, Sara would often wear a cork to school, stuck in her butt. She would take it out only when she had to go to the bathroom. She enjoyed very much the private, personal sensation. She could feel it wanting to push in when she was sitting at her desk in a class, and then want to pop out when she was walking up and down a hall. She took it as a personal challenge to keep it in as her bottom wiggled back and forth as she would at times dash to get to a class. It gave her such special stimulations that only she knew about; well, only she and Georgie. Georgie would at times goose her in the hallway to check to see if she was wearing a cork. She clenched her anus just thinking about it. And, Georgie was right about the corks. They were not particularly easy to clean. These would work much better.

But, most impressive of all, was the accessorizing. Adorned at the end, the end that is outside the butt, were lovely silk facsimile roses. The smallest plug had a pink rose; the medium one was violet, and the large butt plug had a vivid red rose. She was admiring the pink one. "It's so pretty, Georgie."

The roses were in fact quite well made. Each had a number of soft, curved petals. "These things don't usually come with flowers, do they?" It was a reasonable question. Sara was not at familiar with the sex toy trade but she couldn't imagine that they came with such delicate rose accessories.

George was glad she asked, as he did want her to appreciate the personal nature of his gift. He had in fact spent some time searching the web for butt plugs with a romantic touch, but he had no such luck. So, "I ordered the flowers on line, and then attached them myself with a good, solid anchor. They won't come off."

"But, I don't want to crush them, you know, when I, like, sit down."

"Don't be concerned, they'll be fine. I checked them out myself."

"Georgie!" Sara grinned at the thought of Georgie with a butt plug. Sara had occasionally played with his anus during sex. He did like it when she ran her finger around it while she used her mouth on his thing, and a number of times she had even shoved her finger up inside just when he was cumming. He clearly did like that. But, he did seem to be rather inhibited about doing much more than that, at least with his butt. She attributed it to a masculinity insecurity. You couldn't expect your boyfriend to be entirely free of all sexual problems.

"Not with these. I didn't use these." He wanted to reassure her that these were perfectly clean and fresh. "I bought two sets."

"Did you try the big one?"

George's face flushed at the suggestion. "No, no. If you must know, I just used the littlest one."

She smiled teasingly at him. "Did you like it?"

George had not been expecting this line of questioning, and he was not particularly comfortable discussing it. The tone of his voice let her know that he didn't really want to discuss it further. "I was just checking to see if the petals held up even when sitting down it for some time. The petals are in fact protected well by your cheeks."

Sara grinned at him as she twirled the pink rose butt plug with her fingers. She then noticed another attractive feature as the twirling stirred the air. "Oh my!" She brought it closer to her nose. "They're scented!" They were indeed, and each one with a different variant of perfume. Sara inhaled the lovely Dior J'Adore that scented the pink rose. "Ohhhh, Georgie, it's lovely." George knew that Sara particularly liked Dior perfumes. "Here, you try it." She placed the rose under his nose.

It was a very nice scent. Actually, it reminded George of Sara, in more ways than one. "Yea, it's nice." He then explained how he did this part. He had purchased a Dior five piece mini travel set. He used three of the scents to grace the flowers. He reached into his back pack and brought out the partially opened mini-perfume collection. "You might as well have these as well; you know, to freshen them up, on occasion."

It was all in all a very nice present: her favorite perfume, a naughty toy that was in fact a quite practical replacement for her corks, and even a personal craftsmanship. "I don't think many girls get a corsage like this, Georgie."

"No, I don't imagine they do."

She smiled flirtatiously at him, again twirling the pink rose in her fingers. "Do you want to put on my corsage?" George laughed, albeit quietly. Young men often find it rather awkward to put on a girl's corsage, particularly in front of her parents. It was difficult pinning the corsage to the blouse, typically right above a soft, yearning breast. George had even found that a girl might appear to be enjoying the boy's discomfort, smiling at him innocently as he clumsily fumbled with her blouse, trying to grasp hold of the fabric without actually touching or exposing a breast.

Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds were fortunately not there, although Sara probably would not have made the request if they were.

Sara, keeping her eyes fixed on George's, pushed back her chair and went around to the other side of the table so that her back was to the library wall. She looked around the room. Everybody seemed to be deeply engrossed in their studies. It appeared to her that the only likely possibility was the guy behind the reference and information counter, Peter. She knew Peter, and she knew that Peter was himself pretty well distracted, as his girlfriend Penny was behind the counter with him. They appeared to be deep in conversation.