Double Domme Pegging – Mars Solo & Huntress Lynx Return Home From a Neon Party Ready to Spit Roast Cowboy Strap-on with Bulldog

The party was a flop, plain and simple. Huntress Lynx and I had been hyped all week about the neon pool bash, private rooftop, suspended above the city’s pulse, promises of subby eye candy. We spent hours getting ready, we looked like cyberpunk Amazons on the hunt. But by the time we’d circled the pool twice, it was clear: the crowd was basic. Soft doms with laughable swagger, shy gays sipping Spindrift and pretending not to stare. The only actual subby boy worth pegging was handcuffed to a floatie by his Mistress, who looked barely old enough to vote, and even she seemed bored. Lynx caught my eye and made a face. With a single psychic glance, we agreed: cxl mission. We left early, laughing at the parade of tragic pool-toy mishaps on the way out. In the street, Lynx leaned in and whispered to me, deviously, Let’s just go home and destroy Cowboy. We can do better ourselves. Cowboy Strap-on is our in-house toy, house-trained to the point of being almost decorative.