The account below stems from a real-life experience. I’m sharing it under Fiction because, even though the happenings occurred roughly as described, I’ve recounted them from memory—and memories can be unreliable at times. Given how surprising and intensely unexpected things turned out to be, I suspect my recollection has unknowingly added some flair. At least upon reviewing what I wrote, I struggle to believe I haven’t enhanced something within these pages, even if I’m unsure exactly where.
My wife holds the key for me; she’s been doing so for several years now. Like many couples, we began with casual experimentation—me locked up for days at a time, with long gaps between our “play” sessions. Over the last few years, however, we’ve settled into a lifestyle of constant chastity. I remain 24/7 enclosed in my cage, and it only comes off when she desires to use her toys. We aren’t quite what you’d call an FLR; I’m not submissive enough, nor is she dominant enough for that label—but we have embraced what might be called a Female Led Bedroom. Or perhaps it’s an FLR where the R stands for Romance rather than Relationship.
When sex is concerned, she holds total authority. I can try to initiate things—and I do!—but she has final say over how far everything goes. To me, this dynamic has existed since our chastity play began, though it took her a while to recognize her power. Now that we’ve been at this long enough, she finally understands that tease and denial aren’t unforgivable crimes requiring guilt; rather, they bring me great pleasure and joy.
She also knows how kinky I am and how much I enjoy sexual submission. While I said above I’m not submissive enough for an FLR, that really only applies to life outside the bedroom (by which I mean “sex,” because we don’t always limit our intimacy to the room itself—though with three kids still at home, “don’t always” doesn’t imply “frequently”). From a sexual perspective, my few limits conveniently align with hers, making it safe for me to have a consensual non-consent relationship with her. She has permission to do as she pleases, and we agree that my body is her property to utilize however she sees fit. It’s essentially large-scale role-play. In everyday moments, we are a vanilla couple with jobs, children, and a fairly traditional marriage where I take the lead. However, she possesses the power to snap her fingers and put me into “slave mode” whenever she wishes. She has been doing this more often lately, leaving me both thrilled and nervous.
It used to be the reverse for us. Before my chastity phase, she was essentially my slave girl within a similar CNC dynamic. Most of her time as my servant was fun, though some parts were merely “more tolerable than enjoyable.” Now that the collar is on the other neck (so to speak; she doesn’t make me wear one 24/7 like I did hers, since she claims the cage serves that purpose), both the “fun” and “tolerable” elements are coming full circle. She has started using the phrase “Turnabout is fair play” when making me recreate some aspect of her former slavery. It’s hard for me to argue against it when she’s simply doing with me what I did with her, right?
We had been in this lifestyle phase for a while when she progressed to keeping me locked up for weeks at a time. I wanted to introduce the idea of her using a strap-on on me while I remained caged. I purchased a high-quality Vixskin dildo (they are pricey, but I wanted to ensure she would like it and want to continue). Choosing which one was somewhat challenging as they come in various sizes. I reasoned that starting with something close to my own dimensions would be safest. My erect length is just under 7 inches, so that part was easy, but the girth presented another story. How wide around am I? It wasn’t like I could measure myself while locked inside a chastity cage, so I estimated. When it arrived, I constructed a harness for it. Being handy and enjoying craftsmanship—especially of kinky items—I built it myself.
As I pondered how to bring the idea up with her, the perfect opportunity appeared almost karmically. One Friday night—a rarity among rarities—all the children were out of the house for the entire evening, either at camp or visiting friends. Consequently, we planned on skinny-dipping in our hot tub.
In the bedroom, I stripped but put on the harness and then threw my robe over it without letting her see the equipment underneath. We walked to the hot tub, and I said, “Hey, there’s something we could try,” as I removed the robe. She laughed—not negatively, but with surprise—and replied, “Well, okay, let’s give that a shot” in a tone suggesting she was intrigued by the concept. Foreplay in the hot tub felt much like when I am not caged. We kissed and explored each other physically, eventually she grasped my new appendage and slipped it inside her. Here, my choice of size proved incorrect. I thought I had ordered a medium-sized one, but it turns out my wife is NOT a size queen. She complained that the dildo was too large and caused some discomfort, so we didn’t last very long.
The positive news was that she liked the general concept, so I purchased another slightly smaller dildo. It arrived quickly, and we used it—in bed this time—and she became an instant fan. Using information gathered from Tom Allen, I poured boiling water into a large thermos, placed the dildo inside, and sealed the lid. Half an hour later, when I retrieved it, it was noticeably warmer than body temperature (one of these days I need to use a laser thermometer to determine exactly how hot). She had already warmed herself with her Womanizer device and achieved an orgasm beforehand, so she was very wet, and I didn’t need much lube after securing the harness. I climbed onto the bed in the missionary position and slid the dildo into her. She shuddered, and I thought perhaps she’d experienced another climax on that first stroke. She later clarified no, but admitted that feeling that hot poker slide inside nearly did trigger one immediately. That would have been remarkable since she has never orgasmed from penetration alone throughout her entire life up to then. She didn’t come via penetration this time either, yet she thoroughly enjoyed the sensation. The heat above body temperature was something she later described as “Divine.”
I continued thrusting in that position for a while. It felt so strange—or rather, it wasn’t exactly about physical feeling; it was an odd sensory experience to be pushing into my wife, hearing her moans, sensing the motion in my hips, knowing I was penetrating her, yet with absolutely no sensation of being inside her. I couldn’t even tell if I was inside without looking. At one point, I actually asked her, “Am I inside you?”
She smiled and whispered, “Oh, yes.”
Later, while I was cleaning the dildo, she inquired about what happened to the other one—the first larger model. I explained it was stored in the toy box; it didn’t seem like something returnable after use anyway. I asked if she thought she wanted to try the bigger one again. She said no, she was happy with the new size, then added, “Maybe I should give it a go on you.”
I wasn’t certain if she meant it seriously or not. We often do that—throwing out ideas that might push boundaries to gauge our reactions. This particular suggestion sent a silent shiver down my spine; being pegged by my wife was something that both thrilled and frightened me, which made it the perfect idea.
“I think usually the Keyholder gets the bigger one while her man uses the smaller,” I replied. “But you are in charge, Your Majesty.”
She smiled, delivering that phrase once more. “Turnabout is fair play. You always wanted to fuck me in the ass.”
She never particularly enjoyed being penetrated rearward. It was one of those things she found merely tolerable and barely so; we didn’t do it often because I knew she wasn’t a fan. But it was something I frequently threatened as a form of mind-game, often pressing the tip of my cock against her hole while talking about how good it would feel to push inside before proceeding to actually doing
something else. I’d tell her “You’ve been such an obedient slave, I guess I don’t need to fuck you in the ass to remind you that I own you.” Nothing happened that night, or for several more. Then I got a little lackadaisical about some of my chores. We don’t have an FLR, but I did ask my wife to use her Keyholder authority to assign chores around the house. As I explained, doing the dishes or cleaning the toilet is usually just a chore that needs to be done and doesn’t provide much enjoyment beyond just getting it done. But cleaning the toilet because your Keyholder has ordered you to, well, now that’s foreplay. Suddenly a routine household chore has sexual connotations and becomes much more enjoyable. Not to mention, picking up more of the load around the house let’s her have more energy to put into playtime. Unsurprisingly, she was more than happy to oblige. So I have some chores. Quite a few, really, and I fell behind because I’d gotten a new 3D printer and was spending too much time playing around with it. So on Saturday night, we have a “performance review” ritual where she grades my performance over the last week. It wasn’t a satisfactory rating. And that meant some sort of punishment. We’d been struggling with that. We want to incorporate some Domestic Discipline, but there are obstacles. For one, I enjoy being spanked, and for her to beat me hard enough I don’t enjoy it would get rather loud, and we have kids in the house. The most common form of punishment’s is denying me teasing. This is actually a very powerful incentive, I crave teasing and want to make sure I earn it, but withholding it has it’s problems as a punishment. Mostly, we both really enjoy the teasing, it really helps keep me in the right mindset, and she can’t help herself doing it anyway. So, I guess she thought back to her time as my slave girl and remembered the bit about anal sex as a threatened punishment for lack of obedience. And I heard that phrase. “Turnabout is fair play, maybe you need to be fucked in the ass to teach you to get your chores done.” I never really expected her to want to do something like that. I was excited by the possibility, but I wasn’t sure I wanted a fake cock in my ass. I definitely never want a real one in there, and didn’t know how I’d feel about a fake one. But I did know that at least the part about my wife doing it to me as my Keyholder would be exciting. She told me to get the harness and the “big” dildo. She didn’t want to get hers – the one that goes in her pussy that is - “dirty” so we would have to use the bigger one. Convenient logic, right? I got the harness and fished the big Vixskin out of the bottom of the toy box where it had languished since that first failed use. I knelt in front of her, naked but for my cage, and helped her put it on. After I had the straps connected and adjusted, there I was with it waving in my face. And I was about to experience another of those turnabout moments. “What’s the first rule of cocks?” she asked. I gulped. And opened my mouth. I remembered. As my slave girl, I taught her that the “first rule of cocks” was if mine was in front of her face, she was to open her mouth and take it in. So, now I did the same thing with this strap-on dildo. “And you remember the second rule, don’t you?” I nodded, the head of the thing in my mouth. The second rule of cocks was, once a cock was in your mouth, you couldn’t take it out without permission. “Show me how far you can take it,” she said. I’d said those words to her many times before. Turnabout. I moved my head forward until I felt the first twinges of a gag reflex. I think maybe half of the thing was in my mouth. “Maybe we should do some deepthroat training before you get it in your ass,” she said. We’d tried that with her, years ago. I would try to gradually get more of my cock into her mouth, but we were never able to get very far. She had much too strong a gag reflex, and I didn’t want to push her. I’d have felt horrible if I made her throw up. “Let’s go in the bathroom, just in case you have a problem,” she said, pulling the dildo out of my mouth. I followed her, on hands and knees, since she hadn’t given me permission to get up, and once she had me in our walk-in shower, she put the thing back in front of my face. I took it in and kept going until I felt it towards my throat. She fucked my face in that position for a little bit, gently, not going past where I’d gone, but still eliciting a couple of gagging noises from me. Then she stopped and told me to show her how far I could take it again. I slid forward on it, and got a little farther this time. She held it there, said she wanted me to practice letting it sit right at the gag point. This was all right out of the playbook I’d used with her, only, for some reason, it was working better with me. I guess I just have more control over my gag reflex, and honestly, it did take concentration to suppress it. We played like that for a while, and when she finally pulled the dildo out of my mouth and told me to stand up, I could see an exciting look in her eyes. She was really enjoying this. “I’ve changed my mind,” she said. “I’m not going to fuck you in the ass tonight. You’re going to do deepthroat training instead as your punishment. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” She left and returned shortly with her phone. She brought up an interval training app. We both have it and use it for workouts and stretching. It’s really flexible to set up different programs, and she created one on the spot for me. It was twenty seconds on, and ten seconds rest, with ten repetitions to the cycle. “Here,” she said, taking the harness off, removing the dildo and handing it to me. “I’m going to start the time. When it says ‘start’, you put that in your mouth as far as you can take it and hold it there until you hear ‘stop.’ Got it?” “Yes, Your Majesty,” I said. I heard the synthesized female voice of the app say “Prepare.” Then there were three beeps one second apart, and it said “Start.” I put the dildo in and took it as far back as I could. I held it there, fighting the gag reflex and focusing on relaxing. That first cycle was hard, but the second cycle was easier. On the third, I got the idea of turning the dildo the other way, so the curve pointed down my throat instead of up at the roof of my mouth. I also tilted my head back a little. Both those two things allowed it to go in further. It was just starting to enter my throat, and it took a lot of concentration not to gag. “I like that,” I heard her say. “Very good, you’re doing good.” I tried over the remaining cycles to get it further in, but I couldn’t. I did however, realize it was getting easier to keep it at the entrance to my throat without reflex. After the last cycle, she took the dildo and said “Very good. I think we’ll do more tomorrow night.” We went to bed and she teased my captive balls, fondling and squeezing them until I was at the edge of orgasm, then she said “okay, enough,” and stopped. We talked about what we’d just done, and I said that – much like never wanting a real cock in my ass – I was repulsed by the idea of giving another guy a blowjob, but was incredibly turned on by having my wife’s strap-on in my mouth. She said she’d enjoyed it too, mostly as a little bit of a payback for all the blowjobs she’d given me. Before falling asleep, we agreed we’d do more. So Sunday night I was back in the shower, naked but for the cage, and my wife started up the timer again. The first one I struggled with a bit. The second one felt okay. The third one, she was encouraging me to push farther, and I did. I managed to hit the back of my throat, which stopped the dildo going in further, but I was able to completely suppress my gag reflex. The next one I got to the same place and, pushing a little harder, suddenly the head of the dildo just… popped down my throat and the base of the dildo was up against my teeth. It was all the way in! I heard my wife gasp a bit, and wh
When the timer said “stop” and I pulled out, I was gasping and spluttering a bit, but she asked if I had really just deepthroated it. I nodded yes and admitted surprise. I’d assumed it would be impossible, or maybe possible but take weeks of training. She shook her head and mumbled something about “no gag reflex” and “I could never do that.”
She told me to do it again and keep going with the timer. I slid all the way in once more. I gagged a couple of times, pulled out briefly before the time ran down, but got it right back down. After a few more attempts, she said “wait, we’re restarting this, but I want the harness.”
She left and returned with the strap-on device, and – just like last night had started – I was on my knees getting her strapped in. Only this time, she stopped to cuff my hands together behind my back. When the dildo waved before my face, I took it in all the way down. It pointed up this time, catching briefly at the throat’s rear wall, but she pushed and it bent downward, sliding completely into me.
So there I was, on my knees with my nose buried in my wife’s pubic hair and 7 inches of artificial cock down my gullet. I focused on keeping my throat still, avoiding spasms. Breathing became difficult; I could sip a little air around the dildo but couldn’t exhale. Air flowing up made my throat close tighter. I was essentially plugged with no way out for air. She used the timer app again, lightly pressing her hand against the back of my head. This new sensation felt very trippy. My throat had a couple of involuntary spasms trying to push the toy out; each time that happened, her hand lifted from my head. She wasn’t forcing me onto it, but I wanted to keep it down to prove I could do it.
Honestly, even though I have less than zero desire to ever suck a real cock, having my wife’s fake one down my throat was an amazing experience. I slipped into subspace and forced myself to hold the position until the timer finished.
I finally heard the countdown beeps, then the voice said “Stop.” I withdrew from the dildo, gasping and swallowing hard. Looking up at my wife, she had a slightly wide-eyed expression. She looked like she was power-tripping a little, which is rare for her. The countdown beeps sounded again, and the voice said “Start.”
She gently pushed on the back of my head, and I took the dildo back into my mouth. It stuck briefly coming in. Because the toy had a pronounced upward curve, its head didn’t want to turn easily downward toward my throat. On another try, I got it pointed down. Another minor hesitation occurred as it slid into my gullet before another spasm hit, but I pushed – literally – past that and it was all the way in again.
Her pubic hair tickled my nose. She wasn’t moving her hips at all; she left everything to me for control. That made keeping myself steady easier. I gagged pretty hard but kept it down. Breathing remained impossible. Twenty seconds felt like forever. I made a couple of involuntary noises, and each time happened, her hand moved away then settled back gently onto my head.
Beep, beep, beep, Stop.
I pulled my head back, gasping. The dildo was covered in slobber with quite a bit pouring out onto my chin. My hands were still cuffed behind me so I couldn’t wipe my face. It seemed like only a couple of breaths passed before the ten-second rest expired and I heard “Start.”
This time it went down in one smooth glide, all the way. I could feel my gag reflex on the verge of triggering again, needing focus to relax so it wouldn’t happen. The involuntary action from my body this round was a couple of attempts to swallow. Because I got it down quicker this time, those twenty seconds felt longer. It stayed there for pretty much the entire duration, and I felt panic rising as the beeps came. When I heard “Stop” and withdrew, I tried gasping, swallowing, and spitting all at once. Her Majesty said, “Wow, you’re doing great. That doesn’t look easy.”
I had to finish swallowing before answering. Before that could happen, I heard beeps and “Start” again.
It went straight down. My nose actually hit her pubic mound hard enough for me to notice. She must have been getting more comfortable with the situation, more confident I wouldn’t up-chuck or choke (well, I was choking, but suppressing physical responses through mental effort). Her hand landed on the back of my head with more force now, holding my head against her and keeping me mounted.
When the timer went off and I started to pull away, her hand held me down briefly. I felt a sudden rush of panic, arousal, lust, and massive subspace feelings before she let go and removed the dildo from my throat.
At this point, I’d lost track of how many cycles we had gone through. Looking back at this writeup, I’m not sure if I missed one or two rounds, but these are the highlights as I remember them. The timer program was set for ten start-stop cycles, yet with gasping for air and slobber all over my chin while my usually non-assertive wife started getting rather aggressive about my deepthroat training, I had no idea how many more times I needed to get that toy down.
She began pushing my head onto the dildo again. Not every time was smooth; sometimes I gagged or got the head stuck at the entrance to my throat. I felt bad when it happened, as if cheating or falling behind since taking a second or two extra meant holding for twenty seconds wasn’t met perfectly. It was amazing how much enjoyment this brought me. I always thought having my wife force me into giving her a blowjob while she wore a strap-on would be hot and push my submissive buttons, but never realized just how impressive it felt to have that toy all the way down.
Well, honestly, I didn’t think I could get it down; I figured hitting a gag-reflex problem early was inevitable. But here I was, on my knees before my wife, hands tied behind my back, literally choking on her dildo while trying hardest to push it even farther down by opening my jaws and pressing against the flesh around the strap-on device. Surprisingly easy deepthroating occurred. My wife seemed increasingly into it too.
As mentioned earlier, I lost track of cycles so didn’t realize when we hit the last one, though I hoped it was close. Just as much as I enjoyed it, I started hitting a wall and needing a break soon. Anyway, beep, beep, beep, Start – down it went again. I managed to keep my throat relaxed despite not breathing. A couple of small gag responses came, nothing more than “gurk” sounds. But this time, instead of taking her hand off the back of my head when I gaggged, my wife pressed even harder. I held out and felt relief wave over me as the timer beeps began.
Beep, beep, beep, Stop.
Only, she didn’t let me off the dildo yet. Her hand pressed firmly on the back of my head as I tried to pull away. “Keep it down,” she said, holding my head against her with both hands now. “Ten more seconds, you can do it.”
I gagged hard, surprised, but fought to obey. The panic of not being able to breathe mixed with the fear of having something rammed down my throat. I was close to losing that battle; those ten seconds took forever. When she finally released me and I pulled off, I was a complete mess.
While kneeling there gathering myself, suddenly my wife knelt beside me, kissing my neck and whispering “that was so hot, I can’t believe it” into my ear. She removed the harness, handed it to me and said “go put it on with
“My cock, I want you to fuck me.”
She did get it done. She climaxed twice while using the Womanizer. I remained locked up, but she edged me three times, which was pure bliss. It took some time for sleep to come after that, and as I lay there, I kept thinking about the sensation of that dildo sliding down my throat—feeling it push past the entrance, resting right inside. That thought was also the first thing on my mind when I woke up the next morning, leading me to believe I might have developed a new, somewhat embarrassing addiction.
On Monday night, while brushing my teeth before bed, my wife remarked that she noticed how accustomed I am to having things in my mouth now. I smiled, rinsed out the toothpaste, and asked if she was planning on deepthroating me again tonight. She paused for a moment, pointed at the toothbrush, and asked, “Are you all done?”
“Yes,” I nodded.
“‘Yes,’ what?” she pressed.
“Oh,” I said, kneeling before her. “Yes, Your Highness.”
She smiled. “That’s better. Now strip and go fetch the dildo. Just the dildo, not the harness.”
I followed instructions, including grabbing a pair of handcuffs which she added to my list as I undressed. She cuffed my hands behind me. Instead of wearing the dildo in the harness herself, she used its suction base to attach it to the glass block shower wall at mouth height for me. “Get warmed up while I go get my phone.”
I stepped up and took the dildo into my mouth. It was pointing upward, which is a higher difficulty level, so I started pushing down on it. The tip stuck firmly against my throat’s entrance, making it hard to push further in. As I pulled back slightly, my throat felt more violated than the night before, even though it hadn’t fully entered yet. Then it hit me: it was dry; I needed lubrication on the tip. I worked back and forth with the dildo, coating it with my tongue, and by the time my Keyholder returned, I had managed to slide it all the way down and hold it there a couple of times.
“Okay,” she said. “Same training as last night, but use the wall this time. Oh, and I set the timer for 30 seconds downwards.”
“Thirty seconds?” I asked. “You know, I can’t breathe while it’s down there.”
She looked at me. “Really?” she said. “I didn’t realize that. It makes sense. But you should be able to hold your breath for thirty seconds easily. And you forgot to call me ‘Queen’.” She slapped my balls rather hard.
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” I quickly replied, grunting a bit from the sting. “Yes, Your Majesty, I can hold it that long.”
“Good,” she said, and started the timer.
Beep, beep, beep, Start. I pushed the dildo down again in almost one smooth motion. Thirty seconds felt like an eternity though. Towards the end, fighting back my gag reflex was becoming very difficult, so I was relieved when I heard the countdown beeps.
The second round wasn’t any easier. The difference between twenty and thirty seconds with a 7-inch dildo down my throat became quite noticeable. At twenty seconds, when I pulled away from the dildo, there was lots of saliva, requiring me to swallow two or three times to clear it. Somewhere past those twenty seconds into the thirties, I started drooling profusely. I could feel it pouring down my chin and dripping onto my chest. By the fifth cycle, the drool had run down my body, and I could feel it trickling along the base of my caged cock.
When I pulled off after the fifth cycle, the suction weakened slightly, causing it to slide down a bit. My wife reached up, grabbed it, and reattached it to the block wall. This time, however, she moved it a few inches higher so I would have to stand on my tiptoes to reach it. She did turn it around so the curve pointed downward for an easier entrance.
Beep, beep, beep, start. I rose onto my toes as I took the head into my mouth. With the curve pointing down, I slid it directly in without difficulty or hesitation—just one smooth motion. I felt the corona of the head pop into my throat and then drop further until my nose was pressed against the wall. Standing on my tiptoes made my balance a little shaky at first; I accidentally leaned forward slightly, driving it an extra fraction of an inch deeper as I flattened my nose a bit more against the glass block.
At that moment, I felt something deep in my groin. In an instant, with extreme shock, I knew I had crossed the threshold and was suddenly having an orgasm. No hands, no toys, no vibrator touching my cock or balls; everything still tightly caged. Just standing on my tiptoes to deepthroat a large dildo for my wife’s entertainment while cum pumped out of me like crazy.
And boy, did she enjoy it. She cut short my training session and asked what had just happened. Still trying to swallow the large amount of saliva in my mouth, I struggled to apologize for having an orgasm without permission, explaining that I hadn’t felt it coming; it just exploded out of nowhere.
I’m not usually into humiliation play, though perhaps these events might make me question that belief. But wow, this was embarrassing—that I was so turned on by having a dildo down my mouth that I had a spontaneous orgasm without permission. I suppose the fact it had been nearly three months since my last full orgasmsomething to do with it—but still, we were both surprised. After talking a little more, we were both very amused, excited, and happy.
As I cleaned up the dildo, she said, “This worked out well. Honestly, I wasn’t completely looking forward to pegging you.”
“You weren’t?” I asked. “I mean, I’m not surprised, I guess. Or maybe I was surprised when you talked about it initially. I didn’t think you’d actually do that.”
“I thought I should try it,” she said. “And I have to admit, seeing that strap-on sticking out from me gave me a total power trip. I got a little buzzy thinking about pounding you with it.”
I smiled, maybe a little nervously. I was feeling a bit buzzy about the thought too.
“But I think I liked putting it in your mouth instead,” she said. “For one thing, that—” she pointed at me cleaning the dildo, “would be much more disgusting if it had been in your ass.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I was actually wondering about that while strapping this onto you. Should I do an enema or something first?”
“Well,” she said, “I got plenty of a power trip putting that down your throat. God! Amazing, and I don’t even have any nerve endings in it. No wonder you always wanted me to do that. I suppose I forgive you for trying to get your cock down my throat back then.”
“That’s good news for me?” I asked.
“Of course,” she said. “Well, but I think that ‘forgiveness’ comes at the cost of me doing that to you on a regular basis now. But it seems like you rather enjoyed it, didn’t you? And I still have to punish you for that, don’t I?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I said. Remembering to show gratitude, “Thank you for it, your Highness.”
“You’re welcome, slave,” she said, then made an offhand comment wondering if they make bigger dildos.
“Oh, yes, much bigger,” I replied. She smiled. She didn’t say anything else and we went to bed, but now it’s the next day and I have a browser window open, looking at an 8½ inch long, 2-inch thick Vixskin Outlaw. I haven’t worked up the nerve to push the buy button yet, but if I do, I’m quite certain that monster will be down my throat shortly after it arrives. And I cannot believe how excited that makes me.