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‘Imbued with the good doctor’s unique, one-of-a-kind sex magic!’ it said beneath her.

“What?” I squawked, shaking the box in my hands. I was gripping it so tight that it started to crumple. “Sex magic? What the fuck is sex magic?!”

Practically ripping the box in half, I looked inside and groaned in despair when I saw there was no instruction manual. Surely that was against some industry standard. If your sex toys came imbued with sex magic, they should also come with a fucking manual.

I spun the box in my hands and frantically scanned the text on the back, barely taking it in as I twitched from the tight, painful pressure around my dick, not even remotely aroused anymore.

‘Sensational magic sucking motion! Feels like the real thing!’

‘This Headless Horseman has been roaming the WOODIES searching for his next victim. Victim of his COCK-HUNGRY mouth, that is! He’s not going to stop until he SUCKS every HARD, THROBBING DICK he comes across, and you won’t be able to stop COMING when he gives you the best PUMPKIN HEAD of your life!’

“None of this is fucking helpful,” I barked, sweating profusely at this point. I dropped the box and snatched up my phone.

The internet. The internet would help. The internet always helped.

My fingers trembling, I opened up ArachNetwork, the secret browser that let me access the supernatural web, and hurriedly searched for ‘Doctor Otticker Sexlie Richard-Regina’s Headless Horseman Cocksucker toy.’

All the blood drained from my face as I frantically scanned the results.

‘“DR.” OTTICKER S. RICHARD-REGINA HAS NO MEDICAL LICENCE!’ was the title of a blog post.

‘Multiple injuries recorded as worrying new trend of unregulated, magic-infused adult toys gains popularity’ read the headline of an article.

‘Currently sitting in the ER with a pumpkin head on my dick’ said the start of a forum thread.

I swallowed hard and clicked on that one.

‘Never buying Dr. Otticker toys again’ the body of the post said. ‘Felt great at first but now the fucking thing won’t come off. Too painful for me to nut but my dick won’t go down.’

My eyes flicked down to the top comment.

‘Dr. Otticker is a quack’ it read. ‘Have heard horror stories for years about her “sex magic” and how temperamental it is. Don’t buy her products. Not worth the risk. Hopefully you’ve learned your lesson and your dick doesn’t fall off.’

The reply underneath it said ‘Yep, and the Headless Horseman Cocksucker is especially notorious for malfunctioning. Should’ve done some research, OP.’

“Nooo,” I moaned, dropping my phone and staring down at the pumpkin head, my vision blurry with panic.

Why wasn’t my erection going down? I wasn’t having any fucking fun anymore. It just hurt. If my dick got soft, surely I’d be able to get it out of the sleeve.

I looked around in desperation. My wild gaze landed on the fridge-freezer.

Cold would help. Cold would make it shrivel up. I hobbled to the fridge, hunched over and whimpering as the pumpkin head bobbed with every step, and tugged open the freezer door. With shaking hands, I grabbed a fistful of ice cubes and tried to squeeze a couple down between the toy and my pubic mound.

When they just slipped past and landed on the floor, I let out a sob of despair. “Just get the fuck off me!”

I yanked open the fridge and scanned its contents, homing in on my big bottle of extra extra hot, throat-stripping homemade hot sauce.

My chest heaved as I stared at it. I swallowed thickly.

Maybe pain would work.

There was no way my erection would be a match for several million Scoville heat units. If I poured some into a bowl and dipped my nuts into it, the agony would surely overpower whatever faulty sex magic Doctor Otticker had infused the pumpkin with.

Tears pricking my eyes, I grabbed the bottle with a quaking hand. Ten seconds later, I was staring down at a bowl of the thick, angrily red sauce on my kitchen floor.

I knew I wasn’t thinking rationally at this point, but there was absolutely no way I could go to the ER like this. I just couldn’t. I wouldn’t survive the embarrassment.

Breathing fast through my nose, I gripped the edge of the kitchen counter and slowly lowered myself into a squat over the bowl of hot sauce, my legs shaking wildly.