A Fly on the Wall.

by Ganymede

A Fly on the Wall is the story of Savannah Martin, a ten-year-old fashion model, and the journey to change gender. With surgery in Mexico depending on meeting certain conditions, the responsibility falls on Grampa.

< < < Savannah is nine years, five months, and eight days old > > >

If you haven’t read the preceding parts, you should do so before continuing.

Around midnight, halfway back to the border, they stopped at a tourist resort on the other side of Guaymas to stretch their legs. After parking the Jeep under sodium-yellow streetlights, they walked on deserted San Carlos beach. Safe between Frank and Karen, Savannah carried on like a kid at the fairground, trying to get their feet wet when waves washed over the sand.

Sooner, not later, Frank intended to bring up what had to happen before June 24^th. It was a huge step, a life-changing event for all of them; however, with Savannah having so much fun clowning around, he didn’t want to talk about it. Instead, he let himself be dragged along.

“You’ll be sound asleep as soon as we get back in the car,” Karen observed when Savannah started to lag behind.

Savannah tugged at Frank’s hand to slow him down, and released her mom’s hand. “You go ahead, Mom. I want to talk to Grampa about something.”

“Can’t it wait till we get back to the car?”

“It’s what we talked about, Mom.”

Karen got the message. She gave Frank a curious, if somewhat bemused look, and held out her hand. Without saying a word, Savannah dug in her jeans pocket, retrieved her iPhone, entered her password and handed it over. With iPhone secure in her handbag, Karen headed toward the park and sodium streetlights.

Still hand-in-hand, Savannah dragged Frank even closer to the water. As soon as she was sure her mom couldn’t see them, she stepped in front of him, gazing up, slender arms clasped around his middle.

“Guess what, Grampa?” she murmured into darkness.

Frank shrugged, one arm wrapped around her back, his hand behind her head, fingers entwined with curls. His other hand was back on her butt, work-roughened fingers jammed under the waist of her jeans. With bikini pants pushed down, a lone finger played with the start of her crack. He should’ve been ashamed; he wasn’t.

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since we left Dr. Stein ‘s clinic,” she whispered, pressing into Frank’s warmth.

“The operation, or other things?”

Savannah giggled. “Guess.”

“It’s probably other things, knowing how you like to tease.”

“You tease me, too, Grampa.”

“Okay, I’ve been thinking about other things, too.”

“What’s your other thing, Grampa?”

“Tickling my teddy bear.”

Savannah jumped back, grinning, thinking she was safe. Barely out of reach, Frank took a step, grabbed her hand, and yanked, spinning her around so her back was to him. With an arm under her belly, he hoisted her up, feet off the ground, arms dangling down. With his free hand, he tugged at the seat of her jeans.

Savannah struggled. “Don’t you dare, Grampa! Let me go! Please, no butt tickling, Grampa.”

Instead of tickling her, he gave her a playful butt-slap.

“What did I do to deserve a whack?”

“That wasn’t much of a whack. Just a warm-up for this!”

Frank’s index finger hooked Savannah’s jeans, yanking down far enough to expose butt crack, snagging her bikini briefs before jerking up. As wedgies went, it was massive, the kind that made boys shriek and beg for mercy. Then, he put her down again.

Savannah jerked away, scowling and complaining he’d mistreated her. When that didn’t work she pretended permanent injury.

“What, exactly, got injured?” Frank teased.

“You know!”

“Oh, those!” It was only a second or two before he added, “Not for much longer.”

As soon as she grinned, Frank put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her.

“My teddy bear’s got one gorgeous little butt crack.”

“I know what you want to do with my butt!” She rearranged her little bikini undies and jeans so they sat right.

“We’ll get through this, Sanny.” Frank leaned down and smooched the top of her head.

Savannah looked up. “I really want this, Grampa.”

Despite years of misgivings, and endless disputes with Karen, there was no doubt in Frank’s mind. Savannah would be happier afterwards.

“I know you do, Sanny. I love you so much, it’s hard for me to get used to the idea, that’s all.”

A bilateral orchiectomy was gloomy to think about, let alone its consequences. Then, a ‘vulva conversion;’ it was drastic, unnatural and final.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen,” he said quietly.

“Promise, Grampa.”

As bad as Stein’s first two stages were, Stage Four really depressed him. Maudlin, yet well-meaning, Frank crossed his heart.

“I promise.”

Hand in hand again, they walked back to the car. Karen was back in the driver’s seat. She had Savannah’s iPhone out of her handbag and Stein’s T-G Kit in her lap, peering inside the duffel bag.

She muttered to herself, tapping the lit-up screen impatiently. “Yes, I’ll accept full responsibility. Yes, I’ll keep all information confidential. Yes, I understand there’s a risk with transgender kids…”

She started the engine when Savannah and Frank resumed their places on the rear seat; Savannah curled up, sneakers kicked off, her head resting in his lap.

“I loaded the app, Savy.”

“You better not have messed with my stuff,” Savannah grouched.

“I didn’t, but maybe I should look at who you’ve been texting.”

“Mom!” Savannah growled frustration. “If you must know, it’s kids from school, that’s all!”

“It better be kids who you know. No texting anyone from your fan club, or you lose it.”

“Mom, I told you already. Just my gay friends, no one else.”

Thwarted by a nine-year-old, Karen just shook her head.

“I’ll drive to Hermosillo. Dad, you should start getting her ready, assuming you still want to take her the rest of the way.”

Frank had no idea what Karen was talking about until he saw what she’d placed on the center console. Blood rushed to his face, and elsewhere.

“Dad, this is important. ‘Patients, parents, and partners are strongly advised to follow closely all T-G app and kit instructions without exception,’” she read from the iPhone. “I’m checking it as read, okay?”

Frank relocated Savannah’s head from his crotch to his thigh. “Rather bossy, don’t you think?”

“They know what they’re talking about, Dad.”

Karen adjusted the air-conditioning so cold air wasn’t blowing on her face, and picked up where she’d left off.

“Yes, I’m aware that the Stein Center for Gender Research has access to all information in this account.” She turned in her seat. “Dad, by the way, her T-G account is ‘savannahm’, one word, no caps. The password is ‘grampa#1’, since you’ll mostly be using it.”

“Got it, ‘savannahm’ and ‘grampa#1.’”

She began reading aloud after scrolling to the next page,

“’Given that two heads are usually better than one, we strongly recommend both parents are present during introductory sessions. One parent should assist the T-G throughout her dilation.’”

“What’s dilation, Mom?”

“Remember what Dr. Stein said? You have to stretch your body so a penis can fit inside it. That’s dilation. The sooner you start, the sooner your body is ready for sex, Savy.”

“Grampa’s going to dilate me?”

“Well, I can’t do it, and drive, too. I’ll help by reading the instructions. It says, ‘From beginning to end, a successful transition depends on building acceptance. Both parents must be sensitive and concerned. Trust and openness are key elements.’”

“There you go, teamwork,” Frank remarked.

“They say it’s best to do dilation in front of the TV, in the parents’ bed, or in the T-G’s bedroom,” Karen paraphrased. “I guess they mean it should be done at bedtime,” she added.

“They mention doing it in the car?” Frank said.

“The key thing is a friendly setting, where she feels safe and comfortable.”

“It’s friendly back here, if you don’t include smelly feet,” Frank teased.

Savannah pinched his side. He whacked her butt more than once. Hardly oblivious to shrill giggles and squeals, but in too a good mood to intervene, Karen continued to read.

“There are more boxes to check off, Dad. She’s supposed to have a bowel movement first.”

Savannah perked up. “I went at the restaurant, Mom.”

Karen kept reading to herself. “They also recommend an enema.”

“Even if we had enough water, what would we do at 60 miles an hour; hang her out the window?”

“We’ll have to skip it this time. Next, she takes off her clothes.”

“All of them?” Savannah said testily.

“You need to be naked, Savy. It might get messy.”

“Yuck, Mom!”

“Don’t worry; Grampa’s got wipes in the glove-box.”

With the overhead light turned off, Frank unfastened Savannah’s seatbelt. She popped the platinum-plated stud at the front of her TOMBOY^pre Range jeans and opened the short zipper. She was so slender, she wriggled out of her jeans in a matter of seconds. Pastel-purple bikini briefs and white ankle socks joined the pile at her feet.

“’The T-G should lay on her side, facing away. Cover her with a blanket or sheet to lessen embarrassment’,” Karen read from the driver’s seat. “Dad, earlier it said to never make an issue of the you-know.”

“No big deal with the ding-a-ling; I got it.”

Even with the light off, Frank had to look out the window, faking a final view of the star-studded sky and the beach disappearing in darkness. Seeing Savannah without her thong always aroused him. Knowing what was about to happen made him so excited that he actually trembled. It was all he could do to unknot Savannah’s blouse. He pulled it off with a kind of lecherous delight.

Suddenly, she was naked and unabashed, except for her thighs pressed tightly together to hide her ‘boy-thing.’

She turned onto her side and glared up at him. “Mom just said to put a blanket over me so I’m not embarrassed.”

Frank quickly spread the blanket over both of them, leaving his right arm underneath so he could rub Savannah’s warm smooth back.

Karen studied the iPhone. “I guess this is when we find out how serious you really are about transitioning, Savy.”

“Now what, Mom?”

She directed the screen light at the items on the center console. “They say to skip the first one unless she’s under nine, or weighs 60 pounds or less.”

“Mom, if it helps, Dr. Stein’s nurse weighed me. I’m 61 pounds.”

“So the second one would be first. Five inches seems so large.”

“What’s five inches?” Savannah demanded, her voice muffled somewhat by the seat back in front of her face.

“They call this a D-2.“ Karen held up the second smallest one, sealed in a plastic bag.

Savannah’s head swiveled, wide-eyed as her Mom ripped open the bag. It was three-quarters of an inch in diameter, about as thick as Frank’s index finger. No sharp edges and very smooth, his next thought was it looked like a toddler’s bath toy, shaped and sized for a small hand to grasp. It even had a ring in one end to hold on to.

“That goes in my butt?” Savannah queried, more curious than concerned.

“It’s a Dilator, size two, and yes it does.”

“Dilator, there’s another word you don’t hear very often. Most ranchers call it a dildo, and a fairly skinny one at that,” Frank guffawed. “If you ask me, Sanny should start with the next size up or we’ll be here until Christmas.”

“There’s no need to be obscene, Dad.” Still, Karen couldn’t help smiling as she switched on the headlights.

To Savannah’s eyes, D-2 was tiny compared to her grandfather’s whopper. Without the familiar helmet-shaped head, it was toy-like. However, being slightly curved and flesh-colored helped make the connection.

“It’s time to do your part, Dad,” Karen said distantly.

She reached back to hand him the dilator and a tube, after checking to make sure it was the correct one. Then, she reached for the shift handle, ready to get underway.

“It’s not safe to read while you’re driving, Mom.”

“Okay, smarty pants, you read it.” Karen reached back again, this time to hand the iPhone to Savannah. “No texting your friends, though. The app has top priority.”

Frank patted Savannah’s butt, scrunching her sideways. “There’s no way I can get her seatbelt on tight. You need to drive very carefully.”

Karen put the Jeep in gear, and pulled away from the curb. It took less than a minute for Savannah to scroll through several pages.

“I’m to use their EMIL for the first three days. After that, if it’s going inside me for more than an hour, you use EMIL, otherwise you use water-based lube. In a pinch, you can switch to petroleum jelly.”

“Who’s Emile?” Frank muttered. He was very distracted.

“EMIL, Grampa! There’s no ‘e’ on the end. It stands for Extended Medicated Internal Lubricant. It says to use it sparingly.”

“I doubt one tube will be enough for your little ass,” Karen snickered.

“That’s really funny, Mom. Not!”

However, Grampa didn’t care about an ‘e’ on the end. It was all he could do to keep his eyes on Savannah, and on the road. Both were essential. Savannah deserved his utmost attention—Mexican drivers were dangerous in daylight, lethal at night. He went back and forth, glancing up and down.

“It sounds simple enough,” Karen conceded.

“There’s more, Mom. For sessions less than ten minutes, they recommend hand lotion and saliva; so I get used to them. I can get by with baby oil in a pinch. Here’s a list of things I shouldn’t use. No shampoo or conditioner, no cooking oils, nothing with soap in it, no greasy stuff except Vaseline. It works okay and lasts longer, only it’s not all that good for me.”

“Gays use Vaseline, don’t they?” Frank said.

Karen wasn’t in the mood for his jokes, or his lack of knowledge. “It’ll work if it’s all you’ve got, Dad. Whatever goes inside her should be water soluble.”

“Water soluble, right. I got it.”

“Savannah won’t be using it except to find out what it feels like! You follow the T-G app. It’s not an option, Dad.”

“You’re supposed to record the date and time, ease of insertion, how long each episode lasts, the type of stimulation, and my response,” Savannah added from the back seat.

“That’s so Dr. Stein can follow your progress, Savy.”

“It says you can use the app to send photos if there’s a problem, Mom.”

Frank frowned, resenting the loss of privacy. Instead of declaring open opposition, he examined the D-2. Tapered to the tip, and flexible like silicone rubber, the dilator was so bendy he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get it through Savannah’s tight anus. And if he was successful, he’d have to hold onto the ring on the end.

“Better tie a string on the damn thing,” he murmured, unheard over road noise.

“What kind of response am I looking for, Mom?”

Karen smiled. “Maybe it says later on, Sweetie.”

“What’s this mean, Grampa?” Savannah held up the iPhone so Frank could see it.

“’The optimal response is a sudden discharge of accumulated sexual excitement, generated internally, with erratic muscular contractions in the pelvic region, and increased pressure in the bowels,’” he read. “Um, I think it means you have an orgasm, Sanny.”

“So you check the box if I come,” Savannah snickered. “Why don’t they just say so?”

Karen intervened. “Savy, having a come is different. There’s more about it in the introduction. Go back a few pages. With anal sex, you have build-up spasms that get stronger. An anal orgasm is extra special. It doesn’t happen every time.”

“Mom, I know, okay. It has to be without touching my boy-thing.”

Karen gave an exasperated sigh. “Somewhere it says that having one every four tries is good.”

“’One in four constitutes a fully functional anal response,’ Mom,” Savannah read, not at all anxious.

“I’ll be aiming for every other one.” Frank came dangerously close to laughing. “Seriously, I’ll give it my best shot.”

“That’s all you can do, Dad.”

Savannah was ready to move on. “Grampa, next, it says ‘Beginning at the narrow end, lightly cover a third of the Dilator with E-M-I-L.’”

“As in ‘Emile.’ I hear he’s a real slippery guy.”

“Grampa! You need to use enough for it to go inside me. Not too much or it gets messy.”

“Makes sense only the top part is slippery so I can hold on to it,” Frank mused. Why did a nine-year-old know that, and not him?

He uncapped the tube, squeezed a bead of glossy white jelly onto his finger, and smeared it over the upper third. He smiled at the fresh citrus scent, and held his finger for Savannah to smell.

“Now, I stick it in?” The last thing he wanted was to appear experienced.

Karen jumped in. “Even you should know you don’t just stick in in, Dad.”

Savannah scrolled down. “It says, ‘Always insert slowly, paying strict attention to the T-G’s needs.’ You have to listen to me and do what I say, Grampa.”

Karen risked glancing away from the road. “Give it a shot, Dad. Just do it very slowly. Savannah, you’re to stay calm and try to relax back there.”

“Best keep your eyes on the road and let me handle this,” Frank grumbled.

He probed between Savannah’s small buttocks, smearing lubricant into the crack.

“Too high, Grampa.” Savannah placed the iPhone behind her butt so Grampa could see what he was doing.

Frank gently rubbed the slippery tip into Savannah’s little anus, around and around. He could feel her tensing at every slight inward movement, twitching, holding her breath, trying very hard to relax. He leaned very close to her ear and whispered so softly that Savannah almost didn’t hear him.

“You know how to do this, Baby. Relax and push out. It’s just like letting in my finger.”

“What’s going on under that blanket?” Karen sounded nervous.

When she glanced into the rear vision mirror, Frank scowled back. “The brat doesn’t have a seatbelt, remember!”

The iPhone screen put out enough light to see Savannah’s face. Not smiling, but not crying either. Tears and smiles would come later; now she was mostly concentrating on relaxing.

“Is it going in, Dad?” Karen asked, even more anxious.

“Karen, please, can you just drive and let me take care of this?”

He didn’t need to look down. He could feel a kind of stubborn resistance at the other end of the Dilator, where the tip was already stretching the sphincter muscle. Getting it ready to accept something pushing in the wrong way. Just a few more seconds if Savannah didn’t start fighting it.

“Nearly there. Sanny, if you relax your cute little butt, I’ll jab it right up there. On three. One. Two…”

Savannah burst into giggles. “It says to wriggle it until the tip goes in easily. Then, keep wriggling and the rest slides in, Grampa.”

Karen scowled. “Just remember, if you hurt her, Dad, I’ll come after you with a carving knife.”

“Is that before or after you kill all of us!”

Savannah gasped as something gave way, flinching as additional width arrived in a rush.

“There you go. I’d say three minutes for insertion. You think you can beat that next time, sexy girl?” Frank said to take her mind off it.

His little finger stroked her buttocks, soothing while he looked down.

Karen peeked into the rear vision mirror. “Are you okay, Savy?”

“M-m-om… it’s just so big.”

“She’s doing great, Karen,” Frank said, close to irritation.

Taking a deep breath, Frank slowly withdrew the device until Savannah whimpered, tightening instinctively, instantly regretting it. With only the tip filling her anus, he twisted the device, wriggling it into the pucker, forcing expansion.

“Ow-chy, ouchy” Savannah whimpered.

Nerves and good sense got the better of him. “Is it hurting?”

“It burns, kinda.”

“Dad, I read something about if it stings, we’re to use an analgesic cream, before and after. Maybe you better pass the phone back to me.”

He could tell Karen was beyond concerned. “Not a good idea.”

“Dad… My kid is hurting.”

Reluctantly, he took the iPhone from Savannah’s hand, leaned forward, and placed it in hers.

“Watch the road. You might slow down, too. No cars, but there are animals out at night.”

He prodded cautiously, sensing a slight change. Still twisting and wriggling, he pressed harder. Not a lot, just enough to breach the anus and advance to the sphincter. A little more pressure, another careful, very slow twist, and he felt it break through the muscle.

“How much of this goes inside?”

Already, it was at the middle. It went in so easily that he fretted about it escaping.

“Let me check.” Karen held the phone up, watching the road and scrolling pages back and forth with her thumb.

“Really dangerous, Mom,” Savannah said.

“It would be if there were other cars, Honey. I’ve slowed down to 55.”

“It’s my iPhone, Mom!”

“All well and good, but I don’t want you getting hurt because it goes in too far.”

Frank didn’t point out that she forbid him from using his cellphone while Savannah was in the car. He watched the road ahead, too. At least with no other cars, the headlights could stay on high beam.

“Dad, it says all of it goes in, only it might take some time. Thirty or forty minutes sometimes.”

“How long is the darned thing supposed to say inside her?” He didn’t want to appear too eager.

“Keep trying to put it in while I check.”

Karen scrolled through the instructions for ‘Insertion,’ ‘Duration’, and ‘Retrieval’, twice to make sure she got it right.

“Dad, the first time is from four to six hours, overnight is better. It’s not like a normal dildo. You push it in until it disappears inside her. It’s designed to stay inside her until she poops it out. That’s why it’s so bendy, so it can move around inside her. It dilates and strengthens the muscles.”

“Don’t blame me if we have to make an emergency trip to Tucson General to get it out.”

“I guess that’s why they say to follow closely all instructions without exception.”

<<>>

Around 2:00 am, an hour south of Hermosillo, Karen pulled off the road. She turned around, blinked, yawned, and rotated tired shoulders.

“Everything okay back there, Dad.”

Even though Savannah had been sound asleep since leaving Guaymas, Frank still held her hand, maintaining the required ‘close physical and emotional connection between parent and T-G throughout.’

He yawned and looked down, not seeing more than shadows in the dark, lovingly stroking long curls, his fingertips traversing the baby-smooth skin of her forehead.

“So far, so good,” he murmured.

“It hasn’t popped out, yet?”

He suppressed a chuckle. “I can feel a bump below her bellybutton. I reckon that’s it.”

“They say it takes a week. Even 24 hours a day like they recommend, I don’t think it’s going to make much difference, Dad. It’s not that big.”

“It’s not the size, but what you do with it,” Frank jested. “How’s the driving going?”

“I’m good. There’s only two cars on the entire road. Us and the one behind us. It’s been there forever.”

He looked behind. The car was so far back he couldn’t see headlights, just a glow. He unfastened his seat belt and very carefully lifted Savannah’s head from his lap. He shifted sideways, carefully repositioning her, a 61-pound fetus, asleep and safe with a five-inch silicone dilator buried somewhere inside her.

They stretched their legs when they switched seats, ambling beside the road.

“It’s strange how things change,” Karen said quietly. “There was a time when I would’ve given anything to be a boy.”

Frank nodded. He’d arrived at that conclusion so long ago he’d almost forgotten about it. It started at Savannah’s age, two years before Karen reached puberty, when she was in grade school. She was the only tomboy in her class, always awkward among other girls. By twelve, she was an accomplished artist, always drawing fashion-clothes.

“Now, I have a son, and I’m perfectly happy with him becoming a girl.”

Frank flinched at her tone. “It’s complicated.”

“I grew out of it,” Karen said. “It’s different for Savannah. We didn’t have a choice.”

Night was unsettling, dead calm, silent, warm. Karen stopped, inhaling deeply, medicinal-smelling Ragweed. In two more months, she’d be sneezing.

“I wanted to be close to you, Dad; like Savannah is.”

Frank said what he’d wanted to say for a very long time. “Your mom wasn’t around enough to guide you.”

Karen sighed. “You don’t get it, do you Dad? I wanted to be close to you. Then, like now, it’s not about having the right role model.”

“It might be different if Savannah’s dad was around.” Frank immediately regretted saying it.

“She has a role model already.” As always, composed and thoughtful; yet she sounded frustrated. “You never cuddled me like you cuddle Savannah; why is that?”

Frank offered a feeble shrug. Not a dozen yards away, an animal was creeping among the grass, spotty clumps of it just beyond the gravel road edge.

“A lot of kids have crushes on their fathers,” Karen went on. “I’m not the only girl who got wet because of it.”

Frank gaped at desert grass and held his breath, hoping it wasn’t true, knowing there was more.

“It doesn’t bother me, now, Dad. Having Savannah helped me understand.”

“She’s brought us close together,” he allowed, trying to assemble sleep-deprived fragments that resisted normal logic.

“There’s a reason why you think Savannah’s special. It’s not because she cute and cuddly,” Karen added, never more obscure.

Red-faced, he muttered, “You really had a crush on me?”

“Save your breath, Dad. I’ve been over it for 15 years,” Karen muttered.

She turned away, walking slowly toward the Jeep, its rear lights like brilliant beacons in the night. No sign of the car behind them; maybe it pulled over, or turned off.

“I’m flattered,” he said, watching her back. “Honored, actually.”

“I worried about it so much, I nearly had an abortion.”

Frank worried about ‘it’ all the way back to the car.

Taking his turn in the driver’s seat, he adjusted the seat position, rear-vision and side mirrors, and the a/c outlet—cold air blowing on his face would keep him awake. As soon as Karen buckled up, and rearranged Savannah, he pulled slowly onto the blacktop, avoiding the worst of the inevitable lurch. Highway 15 headed to Hermosillo, Sierra Libre looming on the right.

Frank drove three miles, three long minutes, before he looked into the rear-vision mirror. Karen had Savannah’s iPhone out, its light enough to see Savannah’s glistening golden-brown hair, the side of her face. She was striking even asleep, delicate eyelids closed, Cupid-bow lips slightly apart, kissable any time, any place.

“You got a signal way out here?”

“It’s only one bar.” She snickered, stroking Savannah’s hair with her other hand. “Tomorrow morning, when you take out the dilator, she gets coated with analgesic, inside and ouside.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, I have four hours of chores to do every morning.”

“It’s not exactly a chore, Dad.”

”I’m beginning to think we’d should’ve used Stein’s gardener.”

“Do you really want a Mexican gardener fucking your grandkid in the butt?”

Frank grunted a response. “I’ll have a lot to do after being away for three days.”

“Okay, I’ll take it out this time, but only because I have to show her how to douche.” Karen yawned and rubbed her eyes before returning to the iPhone.

“It says here you should use the dilators according to need. ‘Dilator one is 4 inches by 1/2 in.’”

“For an eight-year-old or a really tight ass, ?”

“That’s why we skipped it, Dad,” she said, unamused. “‘Dilator two is 5 by 3/4 in.’”

“No problem. It slid right up there.”

“Dad, please! The app says we’re supposed to review them so we understand what’s ahead. ‘Dilator three is 6 by 1 in.’ Kind of like one of those Italian sausages you like for breakfast.”

“Spicy, but it’ll get her attention. I bet she’ll enjoy it as much as I do!” On a roll, he added, “Ooh, Grampa, stop trying to eat it and go in and out.”

Karen chuckled. “Okay, that’s funny. Next is Dilator number four. All 7 by 1-1/2 inches of it.’”

“That’ll take some getting used to. We’ll do it in front of the TV to take her mind off it.”

Spotting a deer up ahead, Frank lifted his foot off the accelerator. The deer was suicidal, he was certain of it. He touched the brake pedal an instant before the deer bolted across the road.

“I don’t want to be around when she uses the last one.” Karen delved deep into the T-G Kit to find it at the very bottom. “Dilator five is 7-1/2 by 1-3/4 inches. I can’t imagine what it feels like.’’

“Ask Randal,” Frank quipped. “He carries on like size really matters to him.”

“It says to work up to it, Dad. Don’t even try it for a week, and then you’re supposed to use analgesic cream before and after every insertion. There’s some kind of pattern to follow. It looks to me, while she’s still loose, you insert the next size up. All the way in for an hour, and then you replace it with a previous one. Sort of stretch and relax. It’s hard to follow.”

She rummaged through the T-G Kit until she found the next size up. She leaned between the seats, holding it and the iPhone up so he could see. It was identical to the D-2, just bigger all around.

“Whoa! She’ll feel like a stuffed turkey with that up her butt.”

Karen smirked behind her hand, smelling the D-3, and enjoying it. It was like Frank’s new Jeep, fresh, hygienic, intoxicating. She sat back, contemplating exquisite form, her thumb stroking the sleek smooth dilator. It felt like the iPhone, every bit as good as it looked, very reassuring, so organic it was almost human.

“After what I saw at SCAD, six inches isn’t big for a toy.”

“I assume you’re talking about the photography guys?” When Karen didn’t answer, he added, “They used sex toys, huh?”

“Most gays do.” Karen hesitated, thinking back. “Sometimes, they’d wear them around the house. Of course, if it’s small enough, there’s no way of telling.”

“Looking at Savannah right now, who’d know she has a dilator in her rectum?” Frank posed. “In a day or two, she’ll probably forget it’s there.”

It only made sense. Curled up on the ear seat and sound asleep, she was obviously not hurting.

“The app says she should move around with it inside her. Nothing too strenuous.”

“So no basketball in the driveway. Got it!”

He glanced into the rear vision mirror and caught a hint of a smile. Even at the best of times, basketball with Savannah was never enough to break a sweat.

“No horse riding, either!”

Humor squelched, Frank prodded, “You ever going to tell me about SCAD?”

“There were always sex toys lying around the apartment, more after Savannah was born. I think that bothered me even more than what they said.”

“You’ve lost me, Karen. Maybe you ought to back up a bit.”

“They said they were in love. I think they thought they were. Who knows?”

She caressed Savannah’s face, outlining delicate lips with a fingertip, soothing baby soft cheeks, tracing eyebrows.

“They always talked about having children.”

Fearing what was next, Frank tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“They were my only friends in college who weren’t fake artsy types, Dad. They helped me so much; getting me to think about something besides you and Mom splitting up; finding me modeling work; lending me money when I needed it.”

Frank blamed himself; not for the divorce, although he was also at fault. His life went from tolerable to outright wretched, four years of desert solitude until Savannah came along.

“Dad, promise me, not a word to Savannah! I’ll tell her, eventually.”

“You have my word,” he said.

“I suggested having their baby.” Karen said it so quietly that he nearly missed it.

“You picked names out of a hat or chose straws?” Not expecting an answer, yet he always suspected.

She laughed strangely. “If you must know, we got high one night and they jacked off into a shot glass. We mixed it up and I took it into my bedroom.”

“Conceived from a shot glass, you serious?” Frank muttered, certain his hearing was bad from using his chainsaw without ear muffs.

“It was a tight fit. I guess it went in far enough, though.”

“Jesus!”

“It turned out to be perfect timing. I delivered over winter break.”

She fondled Savannah’s small ear, toying with her lobe, a tiny gold ball on a stud instead of a hoop.

Finally, she said, “The only problem was I didn’t realize how much they wanted a little boy. Or why.”

“Go on,” Frank croaked.

He had an unsettling sense that she headed down a road with a precipice lying in wait at the end. There was a road in Utah like that. Dead straight blacktop for mile after mile, stultifying signs advising caution ahead; and suddenly, there was no road, just a precipice, gravel, and hair-raising zigzags for thousands of feet to the bottom.

“I was in week 18 when it started. They got excited because you could finally see a penis on the ultrasound. They were always talking about the size of it. It was funny the first time Eric said it was big enough to be circumcised. However, he said it so often, it seemed it was all that interested him. I starting thinking I’d made a huge mistake.”

“You wanted to end it?” He couldn’t bring himself to say ‘abort it,’ not when ‘it’ was his Savannah.

“They talked me out of it.” She wiped a tear from her eye, and gazed down at Savannah. “I’m glad, now. They were right all along,” she added with a sigh.

“About what?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She lowered her voice. “After he was born, they insisted the doctor had to circumcise him just right. You’ve seen it stiff often enough, Dad; I’m sure you noticed it’s really tight?”

Frank nodded, wariness tossed out the window.

“Bruce said, ‘Gay boys’ dicks have to be sexy.’ There was other stuff, too. They always joked about Savannah being gay. Eric even put a butt plug in the crib! When I came home from school one afternoon, there was a dildo buzzing over his bassinet. That’s when it finally hit home.”

“Savannah never had a chance to be straight,” Frank murmured.

“That’s when I called you to come get me,” Karen said with a drawn-out sigh.