only shooting stars break the mold

Frey Beholders beware, there are no safe words "Afraid you've come to the wrong shrine for that hon." Frey's voice was like sex breezing through a windchime. "I've nothing at all to do with giving you your life or allowing you to live it." Everything would grow dark, the wooden cock disappearing. And then...there was Frey. They stood before Oliver, an impossibly attractive version of whatever it was the hybrid fantasized about most. The smile on their lips was as charming as it was sensual and as always, they were completely nude. Where their impressive cock normally was, now there was only the meagre wooden dildo that Oliver had brought along. It stretched outwards like a flagpole just the same, and given Oliver's kneeling-position, was at about eye-level. "Why do you think I would care about you living a proper life, mm?" They asked, hips moving forward to guide the tip of the dildo-made-wooden-flesh against the hybrid's lower lip.