As he lay on the floor, Adrian thought over his predicament. Despite the soft thrumming in his gut and his own nervous apprehension, he slowly came to an unavoidable conclusion: he had to get the anal beads out, one way or another. Clearly he couldn't just pull them out by the tail either; he'd have to find a creative solution.
Even with the insistent sources of pleasure inside him doing their best to distract him, he finally came up with a plan. Using a strong, braided string and a heavy toolbox, he got everything ready.
The toolbox sat at one edge of his bed, while the string ran from where from its handle to where it was tied gingerly to the base of his tail. He sat opposite the toobox, toes gingerly resting against the floor in anticipation.
With the string held taught in one hand, he reached across to gently push the toolbox over the edge. The string began pulling instantly. He lowered himself onto his hands and knees, being sure to keep hold of the string until the last moment. With a final nervous thought, he let it go and braced himself.
Despite being relatively calm until that moment, the beads inside him suddenly squirmed to life, wriggling in protest as the string began doing its job of pulling the plug out of his rear. Adrian couldn't help himself, weak mewls of pleasure escaping his mouth as first the plug, then each bead were pulled slowly from his rear. Knowing that it would be over soon enough, he tried to keep count of the beads.
One... two... three...
Adrian's head buzzed with the overwhelming sensations. Despite himself, his pelvis began weakly humping the air, his cock begging for release once more.
Four... five... six...
The thrusting motions of his waist in the air became more wild, and the jarring movement caused Adrian's eyes to roll up even as it helped dislodge the last few beads.
Seven... eight... nine...?
Adrian collapsed in a heap, his rear still held high in the air as he came onto the floor, his whole body shaking. He heard the soft thump of the toolbox making contact with the carpet on the other side of his bed. Hazily, he tried to recall how many beads there had been. He thought there had been eight, but he could easily believe he'd miscounted before. All the same, as he tried to sit up, but a worrying sensation pulled at his rear. Another bead?