The Dildo That Erased Claire Bonneville's Memory - Cover

The Dildo That Erased Claire Bonneville's Memory

Copyright© 2015 by Lubrican

Chapter 10

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 10 - She almost didn't go buy the dildo. It was too embarrassing. What if a someone she knew saw her at that store? But frustration drove her on and she took a dildo home. She used it just once and then, while confessing that shame to her best friend, hysteria and panic struck and she stumbled into traffic. When she woke, old, timid, ashamed Claire was gone. All she wanted was to be happy, and amnesia gave her a new start. But there were hurdles to be jumped. Such as someone trying to kill her.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Reluctant   Fiction   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Sex Toys   Slow  

The feeling of déjàvu, once they were inside, was eerie, and yet Claire couldn't put her finger on just what it was that seemed familiar. It took a while before it percolated into her mind that the plethora of objects, the variety of things people tried to spice up their sex lives with, was probably what her tattered memory found recognizable. The array of colors, textures, and purposes for the things she saw was intimidating in a way. She compared it to what she thought seeing a foreign language might be like, where the meaning of some words was clear, while others were incomprehensible.

She knew that Cindy had been here before. Now it became obvious, as her friend led Claire straight to a specific part of the store. Phallic objects covered the wall, in every color, style, and shape imaginable.

"This is what I have," said Cindy, reaching for a plastic package that was clear, allowing one to see what was inside.

The word "ginseng" popped into Claire's head and another memory seeped back into her brain.

"I remember you showing me yours!" said Claire. "It was at a restaurant."

"Yes!" said Cindy, excitedly. "The day before..." She stopped.

"The accident?"

Cindy looked relived that she hadn't had to say it.

"Yes."

"When you showed it to me I remember thinking it looked like a ginseng root."

"It does, doesn't it!" Cindy examined the one in the package as if she'd never seen one before. "Well, I recommend it."

"Why?"

"Trust me. Yours was fine for having something in you, but if you wanted it to move you had to make it do that. This one moves all by itself. It's not quite like a man, mind you, but it touches you just everywhere. And this little projection right here? It massages your clit at the same time. Fantastic. Mine leaves me limp."

"Okay," said Claire. "Do they come in sizes?" She was remembering the oversized bulk of what John had ruined. She'd loved the way it stretched her.

"You know, I don't know," said her friend. "Let's ask."

"What? You can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's ... personal!"

"Look around," said Cindy. "Everything in the store is personal. They're used to it."

"Let's keep looking," said Claire, feeling nervous.

"Suit yourself. If you really like the style you had, we can look for one that vibrates. That would add to the experience."

They ended up five feet down the aisle, where there were things that looked more like the traditional male appendage. Cindy reached for one that was black.

"Here you go. This is a big one. You like big ones, right? That's what you had before. Let's see ... three speeds, oooo, this one has a switch that will make it get warm! I've never heard of that before. Technology marches on, right? I wonder if it only vibrates, or if it has an undulating spine?"

"Geez, Cindy, get a room," said Claire, smiling.

"Don't be flippant. This is serious business. I love Danny, and I love the way he treats me, both in and out of bed. But let's face facts. Sometimes a man can't be there for you when you need him. And some of these do things a man can't do at all. And then there are the times when you just want to be alone with one of your fantasies. Every woman should have one of these. They're a lot cheaper than therapy."

"I suppose you're right. Something like this is the only alternative to a real man."

"Well, not the only alternative," said Cindy, grinning. "But you haven't showed any lesbian tendencies, so that's out."

Claire froze for a few seconds. The sparkle in Cindy's eyes said things between the lines.

"Don't tell me you've ever..." She trailed off.

"I would never have told the old Claire that I experimented in college," said Cindy, slyly. "But the new Claire is much more broad-minded."

"Really? What was it like?" Her question came from pure curiosity.

"See what I mean? The old you would have run screaming from the building."

"I don't think I want to draw that kind of attention to myself," said Claire.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Not if you're going to proposition me."

"Why, Claire! I love you like a sister. Except I never had any sisters." She cocked her head and her eyes lost their focus. "I wonder what having a sister would have been like. Maybe I'd have experimented earlier if I had."

"With your sister?"

Cindy shrugged. "Since I never had one, I don't know how it would feel if I were attracted to one in that way."

"I think you're avoiding the question," said Claire. She knew she would have if their roles had been reversed.

"No I'm not. It was nice. Everything was very gentle and unthreatening. Girls know how girls feel, so they know how to make other girls feel good."

"I hadn't thought about it that way," said Claire. "Actually, I hadn't thought about it at all."

"It doesn't work very well, though, if you have a boyfriend. Jealousy knows no gender. And if my boyfriend had known about it, he'd have wanted to have a threesome."

"So you were bisexual?"

"I was curious. That was it. It was fun. I'm glad I did it, but that doesn't mean I'm in the market for that kind of thing again. I love Danny and he gives me everything I need."

"Except that you own a sex toy," teased Claire.

"I own five," said Cindy, with no trace of embarrassment. "Danny is happy that I do, too. You probably don't remember it, but I told you one time that he likes to watch me use them."

One of her new memories flashed and Claire shuddered.

"John does, too. He watched me one time after the accident," she said. "That's not a good memory, though."

"Danny and John couldn't be more different," said Cindy. "I feel wonderful when he's there. I feel so wicked and he has such fun watching."

"John had fun too, but it felt dirty."

"I doubt it was fun for him," said Cindy. "He destroyed yours, after all."

"Which is why we're here," said Claire. "So, which one should I get?"

"Who said you're only going to get one?" asked Cindy, grinning slyly.


When they approached the register Cindy was holding two devices. Cindy had insisted she get a rabbit. The rabbit she chose was blue with gold stars on it. The shape of the thing was so different that she thought the decoration should be different too. The other was the black one Cindy had been so effusive upon finding. Claire had no idea why three speeds were necessary, but the warming mechanism seemed like a good idea. The clerk was a man, which made Claire a little nervous, but his almost bored attitude had disarmed her angst. He pointed out that the testicles on the black one were gel-filled, rather than solid, and that there were no refunds once the package had been opened.

"I missed that," said Cindy, peering at the package in general and the balls in particular.

"Some people like the realistic feel of the gel," said the man. "Others prefer something they can grip that's solid." He stood and looked at them. "So is this the one you want?"

"I'm thinking," said Cindy. She turned to Claire. "Actually, it's for you. What do you think?"

It seemed ludicrous to Claire to be standing there, talking to a complete stranger about whether the balls on a dildo should be firm or soft. She shrugged. The man, perhaps wanting to make the sale and get on with other things, spoke again.

"The only thing you have to be careful about with the gel-filled type is that if you poke a hole in the balls, they leak."

"Who would poke a hole in the balls?" asked Claire, without thinking about it first.

"Accidents happen," said the guy. "I had one woman come back in here with one she kept in her purse and her nail file stabbed it."

"I'll be careful," said Claire, feeling like she'd slipped into an episode of some strange TV show.

"Can we feel them first?" asked Cindy.

Claire wanted to cover her eyes with her hand.

"No refunds once the package is open," droned the clerk.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said Cindy. "Don't you have a demo?"

"You want to touch a demo?" The clerk's eyes showed the first hint of real interest in the transaction.

"I get your point," said Cindy.

The clerk apparently thought the discussion was finished. He punched buttons on the register.

"Fifty-eight, thirty-seven," he said. "You need batteries?"

Claire shoved three twenties at him and said, "No. We're in a hurry."

"If you're in a hurry you should make sure you have batteries," he said. He lifted the rabbit. "Especially with this one."


They left with an ample supply of batteries and the clerk's, "Thank you ladies. Have fun," ringing in Claire's ears.

"Considering what we just went through, this had better be worth it," she growled as they got back in Cindy's car.

"It will be," said Cindy. "I'm proud of you. You did very well."

"Can we feel them?" aped Claire, making her voice go high.

"No refunds once the package is open," said Cindy, using as low a voice as she could.

Then she laughed and put the car in gear.


They were busted the second they walked into the house. That's because Christie's proudly proclaimed a customer's purchase with a bright bag that had their logo on it.

"What have we here?" asked Danny, perking up like a Springer Spaniel sensing a covey of quail in a tuffet.

"None of your business," said Cindy.

"Ahhhh, you replaced the one the asshole destroyed." He didn't smile, which made his comment seem less personal, somehow.

"I'm going to go run," said Claire, ignoring her embarrassment.

"I'll save some supper for you," said Cindy.

Ten minutes later Claire was loping along, headed for the school. It was chilly and she realized she was going to have to get something warmer to run in.

Cars were streaming out of the parking lot as she approached, and she recognized teenage boys in most of them. Two honked at her. She waved as an automatic response.

It didn't occur to her that Chad would change in his office, so she was startled when she walked in and found him bent over, tying his shoes, wearing only running shorts. He stood up, just as surprised as she was.

"Oh, it's you," he said. "Be ready in a sec."

She found herself staring at his chest, which had a thick sprinkling of hair across it. He was lean, and his muscles showed beneath his skin. Flutters played in her belly, but she kept her eyes on him, just looking at his upper torso until he covered it with a shirt.

They left at a trot and she paced him as he warmed up.

"Where you want to go today?" he asked.

"Don't care," she said.

"Let's run across town to the Ridgeview area and then around the industrial park. That will give us seven miles and we can decide where to go from there," he suggested.

"Sounds good," she said.

For some reason, as they ran, she couldn't help but think that, right here next to her, there was a real, live penis in his shorts. It would have soft balls beneath it (don't poke a hole in them!), but it wouldn't vibrate (no batteries required!). She wouldn't have to grip it at all if she used it to pleasure herself, because it worked in full automatic mode. She giggled and he looked over at her.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said. "I was just thinking about something."

"Anything I'd find humorous too?"

She giggled again. "I don't think you'd perceive it as humor."

"Is this one of those things only women understand?"

"You could say that." She wondered how he would perceive what she'd been thinking about. With eagerness, most likely.

They entered the fringes of the downtown area and he took them straight up Broad Street, which was also Business 86, the main road that went through town. Traffic was still heavy, though, as what passed for rush hour wound down. Orange cones and a barricade appeared on the sidewalk in front of them. They could have crossed the street, but that would mix them with drivers in a hurry to get home, so Chad simply turned down the alley between Sixth and Seventh Streets. Tall buildings rose on both sides of them and the daylight dimmed. They proceeded past dumpsters and bags of trash that weren't in dumpsters. One car was parked in the alley and they had to run around it.

They were approaching the end of the alley, where it crossed Hamilton, when a car screeched to a stop in front of them, partially blocking the exit to the alley. Three men jumped out. The driver and the one who had been behind him began walking toward the runners, hunched over in an odd way. The man from the front passenger seat hurried around the back of the car and joined them.

Claire saw something glint in one of the men's hands, and some dim memory in her mind shouted, "knife!" She reached for Chad's arm instinctively and pulled him to a stop.

"What?" he asked. When he saw her face, his eyes sought what she was looking at. By now all three men were brandishing knives.

"Gimme your purse, lady," growled the driver. "And your wallet," he added, obviously meaning Chad. That seemed almost like an afterthought.

Claire thought it was odd that he'd ask for items that were clearly not in evidence. Her spandex made it clear she was carrying nothing, and there was nowhere on Chad's body where a wallet might be hidden.

"I don't have a wallet," said Chad. "And she doesn't have a purse. We're just runners. You picked the wrong people to mug."

"Doesn't matter," said the driver.

The three advanced.

Chad reached for Claire's arm and pulled her away from the men. She shook his hand off.

"Get behind me," she said.

"What?"

She said nothing further, though, and he watched in horror as she went towards the men, instead of following him away from them.

"She's a juicy one, Ed," said one of the men. "You sure we can't take her with us?"

"You got your fuckin' orders," said the driver, who was apparently named Ed.

As one, the three men rushed Claire.

Chad watched in disbelief as the three hoodlums seemed to begin performing some kind of weird ballet dance. Claire's body ducked and her arms and legs flew out away from her. Thuds were heard and the men yelled. Chad winced as he saw her right foot swing to her right and connect solidly with Ed's left knee, which buckled in a way that, to a coach's mind, meant he was out for the rest of the year, and probably permanently.

That was followed by Claire somehow grasping an arm holding a knife and pulling it over her shoulder as she turned her back to the man. There was a sickening crack! and a howl of pain as the knife skittered across the dirty pavement. The man's body arced up into the air and he fell in a heap in front of Claire. She wheeled gracefully to snap a kick that impacted the third man's head and he went down, grunting, only to scramble up and run for the car. Claire spun to face Ed again, apparently to make sure he wasn't still a threat, but he was moaning in pain, trying to hold a knee below which the leg stuck out in the wrong direction. Her foot reached almost gently to toe the knife he'd dropped and slide it away from him ten feet. While she was doing that, broken arm got up and barely made it into the back of the car before it sped away. As it was, he couldn't close the door with his injured arm, and it slammed against a lamp post, sounding like someone had rung a cracked church bell.

Chad ran to join Claire and, partly out of an adrenaline rush and partly from anger, he rolled Ed over, careless of his obviously broken leg, and jerked his arms behind his back, putting one knee where his wrists crossed. The man howled in pain, but Chad didn't care.

Voices began questioning them and Chad heard Claire tell someone to call 911. He looked up to see her standing with her hands on her hips. Even through the spandex and whatever she was wearing under it, her nipples were clearly visible. She wasn't even breathing hard.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" he asked, wide-eyed.

"I don't remember," she said. "It just came naturally to me."

"Well remind me not to push too hard for a date anymore," he said.

"I'd never do that to you," she replied.

"And remind me never to bandy a knife around in the kitchen," he added.

"Okay," she said. "Don't bandy a knife around in the kitchen."

"You're awfully cool about this."

"What's not to be cool about? The threat is dispersed and, presumably, the police are on the way."

"The threat is dispersed? You call that dispersing a threat?"

"I guess I do. What do you call it?"

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