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Reprinted from Venus or Vixen; image courtesy of Venus or Vixen

HE PARKED HIS NEW MUSTANG,a car salesman's perk, and took the elevator to the second floor. At the suite he pushed lightly with his fingertips on thenine-foot solid mahogany door. It swung open like a toy. Plum chairs, graycarpet. Reproductions of impressionists hung on the walls. A mousy brunette slida frosted glass window open.

"Mr. Donaldson? Welcome. If you'd just take a minute to fill out these forms the image counselor will be right with you."

Image counselor? He thought he was going to see a doctor. He slogged through theforms and turned them in.

"The counselor will be with you in just a minute now," the receptionist said. Hewondered if that meant he should sit down with a magazine and prepare to wait.The frosted window slid closed with a "clack." A tall, leggy blonde in a jadesuit appeared leaning casually against an open door and scratched her left anklewith her right heel.

"Mr. Donaldson? I'm Dr. Lucy Sheridan but please call me Lucy."

"OK," he said, "Call me Jay." They shook hands. Hers felt warm.

"Shall we go back to my office?" The therapeutic intonation of her voice gavehim an involuntary shiver. As he followed he admired the spherical symmetry ofher butt through the silk skirt, ripe and round as a plum.

"Have a seat," she said, ushering him into an office with deep lavender carpetandpink walls. The color scheme reminded him of a brothel without the usualornamentation — no plaster Cupids in gold leaf. He sat in an armlessstraight-backed bamboo chair whose steel base made it possible to rock slightly.

"Take off your shoes if you like, make yourself comfortable," she said. Hermellifluous contralto relaxed him. She could be an FM disc jockey.

"Are you the doctor?" he asked.

"I'm not the surgeon, if that's what you mean. I am a doctor of psychology. ButI think what I do is in some ways more important than the surgery."

"So you??"

"I do preliminary screening of applicants to see if they qualify. We don't wantanyunsatisfied customers."

Despite her voice Jay was suddenly disturbed. She was using a sales technique:Make them want it because not everyone could have it. Not everyone "qualified."He must be careful not to become enmeshed in the same tricks he used in hisbusiness.

"So Jay, tell me what brings you in today."

"I was just curious."

"Curious about..?"

"What you could do, what this was really about. I mean, my equipment works allright but it does seem a little small now, I mean, with the extra weight andall. So I was wondering what the deal was with? err?."

"Penile enlargement?"


"So you're just 'curious?'"

"Right. I just wanted some information, you know, 'Free consultation,' like theads say."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed. Sales technique #2, Jay thought — make thecustomer feel sorry for the salesman. Make him feel as if he's wasting thesalesman's time if not serious.

"What would you like to know?"

"I want to know, 1): Can you make my penis appreciably bigger? And, 2): Willwomen find it more attractive?"

Lucy's laugh was smooth as a clarinet. "Yes, Jay, we can make your penisappreciably bigger, particularly in its resting state. And it has been shownthat in general, larger penises are more sexually attractive to women, thoughthere are exceptions, just as some men prefer small breasts."

"What do you prefer?" he asked on impulse.

"Bigger is better as far as I'm concerned." Her green eyes narrowed in a felinestare. "If a penis is too small, particularly in diameter, it doesn't provideenough pressure on the superior vaginal meatus to effectively stimulate theclitoris, thus frustrating coital orgasm."

"In English, please?" Jay said.

"You know what a clitoris is?"


"Well it sits above the vaginal opening, and if the penis isn't wide enough,there won't be enough pressure to get a woman to orgasm in normal intercourse."

"Oh," Jay said. "But can't you overcome that with a little finger massage?"

"Once a man's excited it's hard for him to do that properly. The clitoris isdelicate and most men just press too hard."

"I see. But can't the woman help?"

"Sure. But will she remember you then as a complete lover?"

Technique #3: imply a deficiency on the customer's part, that they are"incomplete" without the product. She already had him wondering. Had some of hisdates not called back because of his diameter?

"But how do you determine who's big enough?" he said.

"Truthfully, only the individual woman can decide, since female openings differas well — although the elastic nature of the vagina makes it easier toaccommodate different sizes. What we can offer you is a penile nomogram. Thisshows average diameter, circumference and length — both flaccid and erect —adjusted for height and weight. So just follow your height and weight valuesuntil they intersect in both the flaccid and erect columns, here. Then compareyour own measurements to them. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"Good. Here's the chart and a tape measure. Everything is done in centimeters,bythe way. There's a bathroom just outside where you can measure and compareyourself to the norms. OK?"

"All right." He pocketed the tape measure and held the plastic-coated nomogramcasually, like a fan, then sauntered nonchalantly out of the office. In thebathroom hung magazine racks but the magazines were hidden. A note said, "Pleasedo not look at the magazines until your non-erect measurement is taken." Therewere also some impressive before-and-after pictures of men who had undergone theprocedure along with their testimonials. Jay wondered if these guys got laid anymore than he did. He took out the tape measure. Flaccid, he found himself in thethirtieth percentile for length and the thirty-fifth percentile for width. If helost a little weight that could improve. After a glance at a Playboy hiserection qualified for the fortieth percentile for length and width. Which meantsix out of ten men had bigger dicks — so what. But what if that difference madea difference in satisfaction, as Dr. Sheridan implied? He wasn't getting anyyounger and despite his sales skills, good dates were getting harder to find,and the old reliableswere, well — old. After his erection detumesced he strode back into Lucy'soffice as casually as if he'd gone out for a cigarette. She eyed the tapemeasure as he returned it.

"So, how'd you do?" she asked.

"Not bad, I guess," he said. "Slightly below average."

"How much?"

"About ten percent."

"Erect or flaccid?"

"Erect," he mumbled.

"I gather the flaccid wasn't so good?"

"No, but that's just appearances," he assured her. "I'm no giant but I'm not apygmy, either."

She searched his face for an opening and saw none. "Very well then. Jay, itappears you have no need of our services. It was a pleasure meeting you." Shestood up to shake his hand. He looked down into her generous cleavage,milk-white with spidery blue veins, framed by her jade silk lapels... shereminded him of the centerfold.

"All right," he said. But why did he feel so gypped? Of course! Sales technique#4: Always dismiss the customer first so they feel rejected. He recognized thegambit but could not fight the emotion. Lucy's green eyes sucked him furtherinto her chest and the faint smell of citrus from her skin stung him — was ittangerine?

"Oh Lucy?"


"I'm not really sure."

"Oh?" Her body language slumped to say she feared this might happen butgrudgingly endured it. Technique #5: Act as if the effort of dealing with adisinterested customer was just too much trouble, a burden barely borne. Makethem work at buying to earn your interest back.

"I mean, can I talk to you just man to woman, not customer to salesperson orpatient to doctor?"

"Sure." She relaxed, leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. Peek ofcalf.

"What do you want to know?"

"Do you find a bigger penis a turn-on?"

"Of course."

"Do you think most women feel that way?"

"I can't speak for most women. I just know a large man is more likely tosatisfy. Itmight scare a virgin, but they don't know how to enjoy sex anyway. Do you likesmall breasts?"

"I've got to say I prefer big ones."

"So do I," she said. "I know I can go into any bar and men will stare atthese —" she cupped her hands beneath them.

"Ms. Sheridan, err... may I ask if they're real?"

"Of course they're real; they exist, don't they?"

"Well yes, but I've just heard that umm ...augmented breasts don't feel right."

"Would you like to feel mine and see if you can tell which they are?" Her voicewas matter-of-fact, without a hint of titillation or indulgence.

"Are you serious?" Jay asked.

"Sure. Part of my job is education. In my breast awareness classes hundreds ofwomen have felt them already, and a few men. " She walked coolly around the blacklacquer desk between them and knelt at his feet, resting her breasts on hisknees.

"Go ahead, the coat's thin, you should be able to feel them."

Jay put his fingers lightly on the fabric and hesitantly touched what itconcealed.Lucy stared at the wall, looking disinterested. He couldn't believe this washappening.



"You're never going to get a decent feel like that. Here, let me help you." Shedug her breasts out of their lacy white cups and flopped their milk-whitesymmetry against his charcoal slacks.

"Now feel," she said.

First he felt the thickening of her areolas with his fingertips, twirling thenipplesplayfully, then slid his fingers down the body of her breasts and squeezed themas if testing some exotic fruit. Finally he took the heels of his hands andpressed her breasts against her chest wall, flattening them like resilient pies.They felt real enough to him. During his exploration she giggled and lookedinto his eyes, as if asking permission before beginning to stroke him throughhis pants. He lifted her up on his lap. She pushed back to rest her butt on thedesk's lip and shimmied down her green skirt and black panties. Jack glimpsedher wheat-colored bush, took off his pants and lowered his boxers. She straddledhim again. The chair rocked. Jay buried his face in her cleavage and smelled herperfume. It was tangerine. His pulsing cock frantically sought her opening whilehis legs were pinned beneath the weight of her thighs. He could feel the tickleof her pubic hairand knew he was getting close when she stiffened. He opened his eyes. She wasstaring at his erect penis, just an inch from entering her. She pushed her hairout of her eyes and said, in a tone he thought not humanly possible, "I'm sorry.Jay. Everything was great until I looked at — you know — I didn't mean to. If wecontinue now I'm afraid it would just be mechanical for me. That's not to say Icouldn't finish you with my mouth or hand if you like."

Jay looked into her eyes, vacant as a doll's. No sign of insincerity. He wantedtomurder her but wasn't sure if she was human. Cunt! His cock begged to continuebut his pride restrained him. Of course! Sales technique #6: Acute deprivation.Take them for a ride in a car beyond their means, let them fantasize aboutowning it, and at the last minute jerk it away because their financing didn'tqualify — and sell them a consolation car at top dollar because they had toleave with something. She did it beautifully. He hadn't seen it coming.

He pulled up his pants and tucked in his shirt. His balls hurt. Dr. Sheridanhad already composed herself behind the desk, imperturbable as a mannequin, nota hair out of place, damn her to fucking hell!

"I'm sorry I got so carried away," she offered. Bitch!

"I am, too," he said, trying to sound calm.

"It happens sometimes," she said, as if that made it all right.

"Particularly when you lay your breasts out on a man's lap," he said bitterly.

"I was just trying to make a point about the quality of surgery — I'm sorry if Iwent too far. We doctors are no less immune to excitement than patients. Afterall, it was you who began to twirl my nipples, to which I happen to beexquisitely sensitive. "

"It seemed the polite thing to do."

"Oh, it was more than polite, it was heavenly," she cooed. "If the room had beendark I'm sure there would have been no problem. I just caught that glance andthen... well, I shouldn't have looked. I'm sorry."

She played it to the hilt. She, the innocent victim of her large penispreference, hisinadequacy exposed by an unintended glance. What a pile of shit!

"Here's my card," she said. It included a beautiful color photo. "Call me if youchange your mind. It was a pleasure meeting you." She smiled as if he'd beenthere for a job interview.

"It was almost a pleasure meeting you," he said deliberately, his pride holdingdown the sound of anger. He put her card in his wallet and made for theelevator, where his index finger shook as it pressed the first floor. Fuckingcunt!

Jay gunned his Mustang onto the freeway in low gear, making it whine. This wasn't even the kind of thing you could tell your friends for a laugh.! His mindwent dark with a pure thirst for revenge.

Could he rape her at gun point? Given her composure she'd likely assent to a mechanical interlude without complaint, denying him satisfaction. Maybe he could knife those magnificent white breasts, scar them so bad a plastic surgeon couldn't fix them. He imagined a tick-tack-toe design of crusted scab on the side of one milk-white breast. The thought of her bleeding comforted him. How did that song go? "I want you to hurt like I hurt." He could file a formal complaint with whatever board granted her a license, but it would be his word against hers and more humiliation for him. He could try and forget the incident and laugh her off as the better salesman, but the wound was too fresh. He wanted to fuck her up the ass until she screamed, until her anus was raw as sandpaper.

He saw his off-ramp just ahead and veered recklessly across traffic to meet it. Coming to a stop he remembered "Revenge is a dish best served cold." He needed to plan his revenge. He needed patience to turn his white rage into a blue flame. Arriving home, immediately he searched the phone book for private investigators, picking a medium-sized ad. He distrusted large ads for their insincerity and small listings for their failure. He made an appointment for the next morning with one Josiah Jones. He hoped he wasn't black.

"Have a seat, Mr. Donaldson," said Josiah Jones in a voice too deep and rich for his small-chested frame. His office was a cut above shabby but several notches below clean. The cage of the unused fan was covered with strings of dust that swung like Spanish moss at the slightest disturbance. Several acoustic ceiling tiles were either missing or ripped, the brown cardboard visible beneath the perforated white veneer. A piece of duct tape patched his green vinyl chair and his large desk was scored with cigarette burns and blotched with old ink. Josiah was small and slight and completely average-looking, possessed of a face it would be hard to describe or remember: green-gray eyes, thinning brown hair, medium nose, average lips, no cheekbones to speak of, neither tan nor white, without distinguishing scars, dressed in a lightly pin-striped brown suit and a maroon tie too thin to be in fashion. Only the nervous energy of his constantly fiddling hands made an impression on Jay. Otherwise the man was wholly forgettable. Jones brought his fingertips together and spoke.

"How can I help you?"

"I need some information."

"What sort of information?"

"It's about a woman I met. I want to find out more about her before we go anyfurther."

"That's odd," the dick said, "most men are glad just to get a second date."

"It's not like that," Jay said.

"Like what?"

"Like a prospective relationship. Is there any reason you need to know?" Jonessmiled and leaned back in his green vinyl chair. "It's my business to know whatI'm getting into," he said, "because my number one priority is to cover my ownass. So either level with me or take your business elsewhere. Cigarette?"

"No thank you."

"Mind if I smoke?"

"It's your office."

Jones snapped a Zippo. Blue smoke flowed from his nostrils like exhaust. "Well,what's it gonna be?"

"Are all detectives like this?" Jay asked.

Jones flipped a long ash into a round ashtray with "USS Enterprise" engraved onits flat, stainless rim. "I don't know any detectives," he deadpanned. "But I'dprefer this one goes on living or my landlady's going to be very disappointed."

Jay looked at the cobwebbed fan.

"So tell me, why do you want to pay for information about a woman who might justgive it to you if you asked her? And that'd be a whole lot cheaper, I mightadd."

"OK, we'll do it your way," Jay said, exhaling a deep breath he forgot he'd beenholding. "She hurt me real bad and I want to know what her vulnerabilities are,to get even — legally, of course, no violence."

"Of course not," Josiah said, stubbing his butt out and lighting another. Hestudied Jay's face for hints of psychopathy. "Revenge can be a dangerous game.Sometimes shit should be left alone and the flies will take care of it."

"And when the shit sticks to your shoe?" Jay asked.

"That's another matter. Sometimes you do need to wipe it off," he conceded.What's her name?" he asked.

"Dr. Lucy Sheridan. Here's her card."

"Hmm? Not bad looking for a doctor, huh?"

"She looks even better undressed," Jay said bitterly. "Do you need anythingelse?"

"The card will be sufficient, thank you. I charge $300 a day plus expenses.Here's the standard contract for you to sign." He slid a triplicate across thedesk. Jay skimmed it, then signed. "I also need a $500 retainer." Jay reached inhis suit pocket and pulled out his checkbook. "At these prices I hope you findsomething," Jay said.

"If there's something to find I'll find it," the dick said, pocketing the checkafter acareful inspection. "Are these work and home numbers accurate?"

"Yeah. And I have a pager number, too."

"Very well then, I'll call you just as soon as I have definitive results."

"I'll look forward to hearing from you."

"Don't be so sure," Jones said.

As they shook hands over Jone's battered walnut desk, Jay thought the manlooked even smaller. Everyday Jay anxiously awaited his call. It wasn't becauseof the money, money he couldn't really spare; it was the anticipation of forminga plan for revenge. Finally one afternoon his cellphone rang. as he was closinga deal on a Thunderbird. Could they meet that night? At the Denny's nearFigueroa? Sure. He'd leave work early. He had his commission for the day.

Denny's fluorescent cheerfulness irritated him. He saw Jones in a booth oftoo-orange vinyl and joined him. Between his nervous fingers danced a slim grayfolder. Jay looked in the detective's eyes but could read nothing. "So whathave you got?"

Jones smiled without showing his teeth. "First, the bill. Four days at $300 aday plus $200 in expenses minus $500 down makes for nine hundred owed, OK?"

"This better be worth it," Jay said.

"I thought you decided that question when you hired me," Jones said. "I just getinformation; you decide if it's worth it. "Jay dug out his checkbook. "Now tellme what you got."

"She's a very cool customer. You said you were interested in vulnerabilities,right?"


"Inside this folder are a number of details you will no doubt wish to peruse atyour leisure. But I can say at the outset that this woman has two major ones:her love of pets and her vanity. What you make of those are your business. Butif you do anything illegal and an investigation ensues, remember there is noclient confidentiality where crime is concerned. I wouldn't hesitate to squealon you to protect my license. Is that understood?"

"You have nothing to worry about," Jay said.

"Good. A pleasure doing business with you." He gave Jay the folder and took hischeck, left a dollar for a coffee and vanished. As soon as he was gone Jaycould no longer visualize his face.

The file was mainly a disappointment. She was a psychologist in good standing,never married, who lived alone with two bassethounds. She worked out at a gymthree times a week and went to an occasional movie. Her credit was good. Sheliked men but there was nothing steady. During the week of observation no dateshad been noted. The clinic at which he met her was just one of her consultingjobs.

He thought of poisoning her dogs. Not good enough. Or stirring up a malpracticesuit from her clients. Not personal enough. Better to find a gigolo with a bigschlong to seduce and then frustrate her as he had been frustrated. Andvideotape it for future enjoyment! Yes, that would do nicely. An eye for an eyeand nothing less. Maybe a little bit more. So how does one go about locating agigolo? He called Jones for a lead, and found himself at the small office of"Global Films" the next day. He asked the receptionist if she knew any actorswho needed work. Did she! He described his requirements as delicately aspossible, which proved to be unnecessary since "Global Films" was purelypornographic. She recommended to him an actor who went by the name of "BigShaft." He was prodigiously endowed and hungry for money. He slipped thereceptionist a twenty and took the phone number.

"Big Shaft," a.k.a. Harvey Weitz, was awakened by Jay's call from a pulsinghangover. Could they meet? Work? Great. In half an hour at Coco's. He'd bethere.

Harvey ordered a chili cheese omelet and a large grapefruit juice. He was moviestar handsome, which meant a little too cute to be called good-looking in Jay'sview. But Harvey did confirm his astounding penile measurements, which hadopened the door for his career in porn, a career he accepted as a meal ticketwhile he deceived himself into thinking it was only a step to something greater.Apparently he wasn't much of an actor. But he did like the ladies, and couldgenerally obtain whomever he wanted. He was perfect for Jay's purposes.

They planned for him to join Lucy's gym, bump into her a couple of times andthen invite her over for a drink to his apartment, where Jay would have thevideo equipment set up behind a one-way mirror. Jay rehearsed the seductionscript with Harvey so there would be no mistake.

Things went well. Lucy met Harvey in the weight room and later saw him in thepool where his Speedo trunks left little room for imagination; she saw what hehad. The success of the plan depended on Lucy being truly interested in 'large'men, and Jay didn't know if her fetish was real or just a sales ploy. To hisgreat delight she accepted an invitation to Harvey's apartment within a week.

After his camera was set up he rehearsed the script with Harvey once more,concentrating on the sex act. He assured him of payment if he carried it off.Then he waited behind the mirror for the show to unfold.

Lucy knocked at the door. "Come in, come in" Harvey said, and ushered her to thewhite leather couch fronted by a chrome and glass coffee table. "Can I get yousomething to drink?"

"A Virgin Mary?" she asked.

"Coming right up." While Harvey left for the kitchen. Jay observed Lucy again athis leisure. She was strikingly beautiful for someone approaching forty. Only afew telltale lines behind her elfin ears and around her neck betrayed her age.Her green eyes were perfectly spaced, her nose long but with delicate nostrils,her chin strong with a dimple and her teeth, of course, perfect. Her voice wassmooth as butterscotch and she sat with an air of magisterial equanimity, as ifwhatever place she assumed, she commanded. Not a hair out of place. He wonderedwhat she'd be like if she'd had the misfortune of being ugly.

Harvey returned with the drinks and they made small talk. Soon he had one armaround her shoulders. Then he dipped his nose into her neck to smell herperfume. Citrus. She turned to him and grabbed his ears in both fists, kissinghim roughly so their teeth clacked together. He unbuttoned her gray tweedjacket, afterwards massaging her breasts through her white silk top. Stillkissing, she put his hand on her bra fastener and guided him in liberating hermelony breasts from the red lace bra that held them. Harvey noticed her nippleswere erect. He pillowed his head deep in her cleavage then retreated to suckfirst her right nipple then her left. Then he squeezed her breasts together tosuck both nipples at once. She shivered and began to pull at his T-shirt. Hethrew it off and lay back on the couch, leaving his jeans buckled. Topless sheswayed back and forth above him, tickling his chest with her nipples,occasionally leaning forward so he could grasp and suck. Jay could hear Lucy'sbreathing over the audio quick and shallow. She reached for Harvey's buckle andundid it, then unzipped his fly. Out of the slit of his baby blue boxers rose apenis of immense proportion, at least seven inches long and thicker than a billyclub. "Wow!" Lucy said in a husky voice, a tone Jay hadn't heard, "I can't waitto have that monster inside of me!" She pulled her skirt and panties down andstraddled Harvey's knees, then pulled down his boxers and with eyes closed beganto run her tongue around the edge of his penis while she stroked its base.Harvey took his right middle finger and gently slid it up her pussy to checklubrication; she was dripping wet.

"Take me, take me now!" she pleaded.

"I'm sorry," Harvey said. "With you I can only use my finger. I just measured. Iknow by experience that I'm too large for you and it would only hurt. Perhaps wecould have oral sex."

"But I want you!" she screamed and grabbed his penis, trying to shove it insideherself. It wouldn't go in, at least not without Harvey's help. "OK, OK, lickme," she said, and lay back on the sofa and spread her long, smooth legs to openher wheat-colored bush until her purplish-pink labia were exposed. Harvey bentforward as if to tongue her clitoris, then sneezed. "Do you douche?" he asked."What's that got to do with anything?" she yelled. "Eat me! Now!"

"I'm afraid that's impossible," Harvey said with what sounded like real regret."I'm allergic to certain perfumes and to yeast and you, unfortunately, have acombination of both, probably from too much douching. It's nothing personal butI can't get near you without sneezing and having my eyes swell up. Sometimes Ieven get asthma. But I could use my finger if you like."

"I can use my own damn finger!" Lucy yelled and brought her knees up around herhead, wrapped her arms around her shins and began to cry. Her body shook insmall convulsions of fury. She looked at Harvey. "How could you do this to me?"

"I didn't plan on it," he lied. "It's just so awkward to ask women beforehand ifthey're big enough or what their privates are like. So I take my chances. Mostwomen are understanding. I'm sorry it didn't work out."

"You're sorry! You're sorry!" she fumed, stood, threw her clothes on and stompedout. "Fuck you and the horse you rode in on!" she screamed.

"I wish you could," Harvey replied unruffled. She blew out the door like a hotSanta Ana wind.

Jay paid Harvey and took the tape. He played it over and over while swillingscotch and laughing hysterically. His only regret was that he couldn't sendLucy a copy without implicating Harvey. "Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord," hemused out loud, "only because man is usually too lazy or cowardly to go afterit. Even the Lord needs a holiday now and then," he said, chuckling, and downedanother shot. Rewind back to her crimson face. Unlike his mother's Christianwarnings, nothing felt hollow about his revenge. It was as satisfying as a fat,grilled steak.

      — Mycroft Cramden