The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Pleasure Shoppe

By Limerick

Sarah hated the name. “First of all, no one spells anything fake old english, anymore. Even putt-putt places and arcades. Second of all, Pleasure Shoppe sounds tawdry. Third of all, it screams old-school porno.”

Sarah did enjoy numbered lists of things she disliked.

Anthony put his arm on the counter, put a hand on his cheek, and tilted his head at his one and only employee. She was definitely not fireable. First of all—god, she had him doing it—because no erotic shop that fired a mid-20s girl voluntarily working there deserved its stock of dildos and cheap lace. The gods would strike him down for rejecting their grace. Second, because she had gone in front of the city council and informed them sternly that this little town of ten thousand souls needed sexual therapy as a matter of health and hygiene. Third, because, well, he wasn’t getting any younger, and a sheepish part of him considered their sad collection of DVDs and sex aids as his legacy.

“Can I drop one p?” he said, pleading. “Shope? No?”

Sarah shook her head no.

“Shopp? No. That’s worse.”

“Why not just, The Shop?” Sarah said, softening once she had made the kill. “That’s... “ she tried not to say things like “body positive” too much, in front of her boss. They hurt him. “Modern.”

“The Shop. The… Sex Shop?”

Sarah’s mouth twisted. “Maybe with an exclamation point at the end,” she ventured.

They sat in the back of the store, behind the register and the counter. There was no reason not to have a big store, out here where the land was cheap, so the store was big. There were aisles upon aisles of sex toys of all kinds, DVDs for every possible perversion, an array of dusty edibles, body paint in every color, clothes in dark red, black, and white, cheaply-made shoes with extremely high heels, a few blowup dolls, more DVDs, strap-ons, at least twelve different versions of the kama sutra, and also a coke machine. One-stop shopping. There was even a dedicated BDSM corner with plastic handcuffs and whips.

The door chimed.

Their clientele of loyal perverts was steady and dependable, if small. There was Chris, Kris the Voyeur. The Ass Guy, with his encyclopedic knowledge of the rear ends of the past three decades of porn stars. Michael, who came by every week, paid for five porn magazines in cash, and never said a word. “Michael” was the name Anthony had assigned him. Peter, the guy who kept breaking handcuffs. This was… a young woman.

Two young women in a vintage porn shop! Anthony wondered idly if he had broken some sort of record.

She had light brown hair, almost blonde, and was dressed in capri-style lulus as well as a loose blue shirt. Anthony was of mixed opinion on the rise of yoga pants, but these were attached to a shapely body with well-rounded thighs. The girl noticed them, cringed, and made a hard right turn into the hentai zone.

Anthony looked over at Sarah. She nodded, went over to the customer, gently steered her back into the main area, where she cowered under the gaze of porn star posters. “Need anything?” Sarah said.

“A, uh…” the woman swallowed, hard. Anthony judged her at late 20s. “A.. vibrator. I need a vibrator.”

“We have a wide variety,” Anthony murmured. He gave her a cheerful smile. Sarah frowned at him. He ignored her. This was his shop. “Can I recommend the Magic Wand? Powerful, versatile.”

“Versatile,” the woman half-whispered, her eyes wide.

“Uh, ACTUALLY,” Sarah said. “I think what you need is the Bullet. Discreet and efficient.” She marched over and picked up one from the display. It was just a little appliance. Anthony was mildly disappointed. Selling large plastic phalluses was one of the joys of the job. The bullets and their tiny ilk looked like jogging equipment. Oh well.

“There’s an optional remote control,” Anthony mentioned. But the woman only had eyes for the vibrator. She walked straight to the register. Anthony was waiting for cash, and was surprised to be handed a credit card. So, Meredith was buying a vibrator, it turned out. Hello, Meredith. Meredith was, in fact, already opening the packaging. Well, well, well.

“Thank you!” Anthony said, handing her the receipt. He didn’t bother asking if she wanted a bag. “And yes, it does come with batteries.”

“Oh, thank GOD,” Meredith said. Her cheeks were flushed red. Actually, a lot of her was flushed red. She marched out of the shop, and Anthony half-expected her to turn the thing on before leaving the store. She had a very nice ass.

“Well!” Anthony said, raising his eyebrows at Sarah.

“Boyfriend probably gone for a month,” his assistant said. “Sad. That’s what happens when you treat sex like some kind of sacred covenant.” She shook her head.

“The important thing is, another satisfied customer. Possibly satisfied in her car, right this sec—” the door jingled. Meredith re-entered the store. The vibrator was nowhere to be seen. Anthony cast a speculative look down at her pants. Was there a faint buzzing…?

“Can I get some extra batteries?” Meredith said, in a distinctly higher-pitched voice.

* * *

Sarah felt bad about deceiving Anthony. Well, sort of bad.

It wasn’t QUITE deceit. He had never asked her why a young woman, college-going, would voluntarily want to work at an aging porn shop, sorting out anal penetration DVDs and also doing some light bookkeeping. Deep in his heart he had to know that there was some ulterior motive.

Which there was. Her summer was going to turn into a junior thesis on The Disappearing American Porn Store as well as a first-personal essay for Huffington Post. Or wherever.

She had been prepared for some sort of sleazy owner, but Anthony was just sort of sad. Despite running a sex shop his true love seemed to be chocolate sundaes and way too much alcohol. He was rotund, with pink cheeks, like a red light district Santa Claus. And his business was slowly but surely going under, with a disappearing coterie of regulars slowly bleeding away. Meredith was the first person under thirty that Sarah had seen in weeks, much less a girl.

And then an entire couple entered the store.

The boy was MAYBE eighteen. Asking for his ID would probably cause him to run. His cheeks had a puffy down that was beard-like, and he was painfully skinny in a lime-green polo. Hanging off of him was an older woman, not OLD, but with a definite ten years on the kid. She wore a wool skirt and pointy, black eyeglasses, and was practically humping the boy. He had a hunted look on his face.

Sarah’s eyes narrowed. This was already an exceptional day. Wool skirt had a dazed, silly smile on her face, and was periodically peppering the boy with shy kisses on his neck.

Anthony was in the back. Well, maybe this would be the intro paragraph to the essay. Maybe they just needed directions. “Can I help you?” Sarah said, in a friendly voice.

The boy gave her a frozen smile. “Do you have…. books?” he said.

“What kind of books?” Sarah asked. They didn’t have many, but she decided to make him work for it. This was a mystery worth solving.

“Uh,” the boy turned back. The girl whispered in his ear. Then licked it. He had one arm around her waist and it was clear he would never let go.

“Are you sure???” the boy whispered back. The girl nodded, and winked.

“Okay. A-anal sex,” the boy said. He took a deep breath. “Anal. Sex…. in the butt.”

Geez. The girl gave Sarah a wink, too. Sarah tried to imagine—no, it was impossible.

“Third aisle,” Sarah said. They had a bunch. She had thumbed through them. Butt play had never held much attraction. Girls had a perfectly good hole and boys were barely even properly using it. As far as she was concerned, they could get a second hole once they’d mastered the first one. Still, the girl looked enthused. “We have condoms at the front desk if you need them.”

“Oh!” the boy said. “Do we need—?” he looked searchingly at his older lover. She shook her head no, emphatically. “Oh, okay. No thank you.”

A problem with her thesis is that there was no real way to make small-talk. “Great!” Sarah said. She pretended to walk away, and then watched the duo head up the aisle. The boy put his hand down the back of her skirt, testing the merchandise.

“That is the luckiest guy I’ve ever seen,” Sarah thought, and wondered, vaguely, if some socialized jealousy was making her feel just a teeny bit attracted to him. After all, he had to have an enormous cock.

* * *

The door chime started to ring, and ring. This was wholly unprecedented.

Customers. ATTRACTIVE customers. Not a single one that he had seen before. And they were girls—good god, were they girls! Girls that had absolutely no need for his services. Girls that could get themselves fucked, he had to imagine, with a shrug and a come-hither motion. There were blondes! In his store!

He hurried over to the biggest clutch of ladies, which was over in lingerie. It was lucky he had gotten that bulk pack of cheap black nightwear what—five years ago? It had mostly rusted on a few mannequins in the store window. And now there were at least, what, six or seven girls with serene smiles sorting through stacks of crotchless panties and sheer bras!

“Can I help you girls?” he said, checking to make sure Sarah wasn’t around. She hated ‘girls’.

“Oh! Yes please!” breathed a blonde with half-lidded eyes. She wore tight blue jeans, the sole survivor of the yoga pants epidemic. The rest of them were a covey of dark black spandex pants. “Can I get a fitting?”

“You, uh, don’t know your size?” Anthony said, his tongue dry.

“Well, I certainly THOUGHT I did!” said blonde, rolling her eyes. “I’ve been a basic B bitch my whole life! But they have been SUPER swollen today! Girls, am I right?”

There was a spatter of giggles. “I’m up, like, all sorts of cup sizes!” one girl said. “I’m breaking out in jiggles all over!” another said, and that set off a round of giggles.

“Oh,” Anthony said. Worth asking. “Well I am glad you patronized us instead of Victoria’s Secret…”

Blonde rolled her eyes. “THAT place is OVERRUN! All they had left were like, A-cups for grannies. So a bunch of us were like, hey, I know where we can find some bras. And they’re HOT!” She held a scratchy burgundy one up to her chest.

She gave him a speculative look. “You’re a professional, right?” she prompted.

Anthony wasn’t feeling particularly professional. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, my dear.”

“You can measure me then, right? We’re just girls here, right? I don’t see any guys around.”

“Oh! Uh, certainly.”

They all looked relieved. A series of shirts went over their heads. Two weren’t even wearing bras. The other three had tits clearly overstuffed into inadequate bras, spilling over on every side with big mounds of boobs. When blonde unstrapped her bra a big mound of alabaster fell out. She had extremely red nipples. Blonde hefted them, relieved.

“Oh my gosh, what is with these BOOBS?” she said, shaking her hair back and forth, amused.

“I’ll just grab a measuring tape,” Anthony said. He backed away. Blonde wasn’t the only one feeling herself up. They all of them were hefting their own tits. Did he need to pinch himself? Perhaps he died and was in the kind of heaven virtuous old perverts got. He found an ancient tape measure in the junk drawer.

“Me first!” Blonde said. She turned her back to him. It was even a nice back. Anthony drew the tape around, and felt the very soft give of two boobs. Blonde purred, deep in her throat.

Anthony realized that he had absolutely no idea how to measure tits.

It was lucky that Sarah walked by, just then, carrying a big stack of cheap dildos and looking harried. “Sarah! Please be a dear and take over measurement duty. I’ll take those heavy, uh, that stack off your hands.”

Anthony fled.

* * *

Sarah’s hands still felt like tit.

She felt warm. Distinctly warm.

The shoppe—no, the shop, she had to remember that—it was finally starting to get to her. It was obvious what had happened. All the very clinical sex aids, the frozen smiles of the girls on the DVD covers, the plastic and the lace, they by themselves couldn’t do anything to a young woman with a guarded attitude towards sex. She could stack a hundred vibrators without feeling anything, sort anal videos by performer last name without more than an eyeroll. It was the boys who could get excited by just the outer clothing, as it were, of sex.

As a girl, she needed actual, emotional connection. People. To get horny.

And now there were LOTS of people. Girls and boys in an excited, frothy, cooing mass, walking the aisles, hands on each other. The register was hot with purchases. She was running out of discrete plastic bags. She was running out of ways to keep her hands out of her pants.

“I’ll take this, and this, and this, and these two,” Meredith said. “Also, I want to return this.”

Sarah’s increasingly hot head took awhile to throw up the name.

“Meredith? You were just here.”

Meredith nodded, cheerfully. Somehow she had changed outfits. Now she was in very short, very tight black running shorts, and a wine-red tanktop. Her nipples were very hard. She had tossed down five vibrators of all sorts on the countertop.

And the one she had just bought. It was still, clearly, wet.

“It broke,” Meredith said, nodding at it.

I guess I have to check, Sarah thought. She watched her hand reach for it. It was sticky, wet, hot. There were a few pubic hairs on it. She blinked.

“We, uh, can’t accept used returns,” she said. Sarah shifted in the stool. It was really high. She had her legs crossed. They ached to be uncrossed.

“But it broke,” Meredith pointed out, not unreasonably. “Like, immediately.”

“What were you… doing with it?”

Meredith looked thoughtful. “Wellllll…. First I had had it up my pussy.”

Sarah found herself nodding. Yeah, that’s where they went.

“And then I licked it for a bit, and then back in, and then licked it, and then I sat on it, and it just DIED!”

Sarah flicked the on/off switch. Nothing happened. “You tried new batteries?” she said. Behind Meredith, a couple took advantage of the sudden slowdown in the line to start to neck. The guy cupped both of his girl’s ass cheeks, protectively. Sarah bit her lip. These emotional connections were getting her awfully wet.

“Uh, of course,” Meredith said. She rolled her eyes. “Duh.”

Sarah hated to disappoint. “But it’s all wet,” she said, lamely.

Meredith took it back. She looked Sarah directly in the eyes, and inserted the thing into her mouth, licking it all over until she had lapped every bit of the plastic. Then she wiped it down with her shirt, leaving a big phallic imprint on the fabric. She handed it back to Sarah.

“There,” she said.

“I can give you store credit,” Sarah whispered.

“Wonderful!” Meredith said. She handed over her credit card, waited patiently, and then gave Sarah a big kiss on the cheek. She smelled pleasant. Sarah fought the urge to turn to her lips. It’d be just like—she’d be—she couldn’t. This was a customer.

“Put this up,” Anthony said, shouldering over. It was a handwritten sign that read “VIBRATORS/DILDOS/SEX TOYS LIMITED TO TWO PER CUSTOMER AND THREE PER COUPLE.” Sarah watched him put it up. Then she put the vibrator underneath her thigh, so she could restock it later.

When it restarted spontaneously, a few minutes later, she kept it right there.

* * *

Anthony turned off the television. He took a deep breath.

His first instinct was—don’t tell Sarah. He needed her on staff. If the news was right, and that reporter girl WAS topless on camera, he’d need all the help he could get.

The older man stood in the back room. There was a lot of old gear here. Things that never sold, things from the dark days of the 1990s. Dusty old sex aids, anal beads, first-model vibrators with huge D-battery ports. Lots of clothes in cardboard boxes. It was peaceful. Sometimes he watched football games back here, surrounded by the merchandise.

It occurred to him that he should, maybe, just go. Go out there and get a girl for himself, go out there and avoid the mad chaos in the storefront. There was no reason for him to go back there and try to impose some sort of order on a virus-crazed populace, on girls with overactive endorphin systems, on boys with unflagging erections. Hell, he’d probably die of a heart attack.

No.

No, he couldn’t.

There was no code of a porn shop owner. But if there was ever a moment in his life, it was this. Out there were hundreds of horny girls, their tits getting huge, their clits bulging, with no idea what to do about it. An unmet need in the sex industry of unprecedented proportion. Somewhere out there a blonde was trying anal without the faintest idea how to proceed. A redhead was trying to get double-dicked by two amateurs. It could not stand.

And besides, he couldn’t just abandon Sarah to it all.

He stood up. He picked up two boxes full of aged gear, one full to the brim with leather masks, and made for the front.

Also, maybe he’d find a way to get his dick wet.

* * *

“PARDON ME, but NO,” Sarah said.

She ran her hand through her hair, frustrated. She had needed to leave her little buzzing friend behind when someone had informed the staff that there was actual fucking going on in the back of one of the aisles. Sarah had given serious thought to bringing the vibrator along.

“NO FUCKING,” she said, wagging her finger.

The two men regarded her with mild annoyance. They didn’t stop thrusting. In between them was a life-like sex doll, encased from head to toe in some sort of black leather/spandex. Sarah hadn’t even known they owned one of those. The toy was propped up on a fuck swing box, and had two orifices unzipped—mouth and pussy. Two cocks were busy plunging away.

Sarah looked away. It was disturbingly hot.

She had found time to change clothes. Previously Sarah had been the only woman in the store still rocking pants with a little give to them. Definitely she was the only one with pockets. But the denim was so itchy, uncomfortable, out of place, that she had finally ducked into the restroom and shucked it off. In its place she pulled up a comfortable pink skirt that had been simply lying around the floor. Sarah tried to ignore how damp it was. Well, she was damp too. It didn’t match her button-down shirt at all—dark black—but it was a huge relief.

“We’re nearly done,” one of the boys said. They looked barely out of High School, and were thrusting with wild teenaged abandon, two white cocks going in and out of the immobile doll. “Just need another second.”

“Speak for yourself,” said the second boy. Both were redheads, and were tall. Sarah’s eyes kept wandering from dick to dick. From what she could tell, they had nice, big dicks. Big ’ol dicks. Wonderfully large cocks. “I’ve got at least two more loads in me.”

“If you want to buy a doll, you take her to the counter, and we’ll process a transaction,” Sarah said. She leaned against the wall. It didn’t help that this was the leather aisle. It smelled like whips and gags. “You guys get that? Money for goods and services?” Good god, they had such big dicks. And when had this store acquired such incredibly…. Life… like… dolls.

A doll with a ponytail, and realistic bobbing action, Sarah noticed.

“We already bought the outfit,” the first boy said. “I think Liz has the receipt somewhere.”

Sarah stared at the glossy black figure. She was utterly encased in shiny black clothes, with just undone zippers for her pussy and her mouth.

“There’s a girl in there?” she said, eventually.

“Well YEAH!” one said. “What’d you think was going on?”

“Oh,” Sarah said. There was a girl in there. Sightless, totally shut off, except for the feeling of two big enthusiastic penises shoving their way inside of her. Oh boy. This was an entire thesis in itself.

“Liz, I’m about to come,” the boy in her mouth warned. There was no indication she could hear, but the boy emptied out anyway, jizzing in her open mouth with big, satisfied grunts. Liz, to her credit, swallowed it all, except for a single trail of jizz running down the side of the leather.

Sarah found herself kneeling, wiping the hot cum off, and staring at it. She stuck her finger in her mouth. Yes, it was good. Of course it was.

“I’m done, too,” the other boy reported. He gave Liz an affectionate smack on the ass. “Hope you’re on birth control, honey.”

“Hey!” Anthony’s voice boomed. Sarah nearly cried, relieved. The big man loomed behind her. “You two!”

“I tried to tell them—”

“You’re working for me, now!” Anthony said. “Come up front and help me get this TV monitor set up.”

“We’re hired? What’re you paying us?” one of the redheads said.

“What do you think I’m gonna pay you in?” Anthony said. “Now, get moving!”

The boys walked off, zipping up.

Sarah was left alone with the leather-encased woman. There was momentarily no one around.

“Oh geez,” Sarah said. Her tits were burning. She was having real, real trouble maintaining a proper distance from the operation of the shop. It was like all the porno had found a hole in her mind and flooded in, overwhelming her academic training with smut. She opened her eyes and saw a personal sex doll, she closed her eyes and saw two wonderful boys flooding her with spunk.

Maybe she had been a little bit too science-y about this whole porno thing. Maybe she needed to live it just a little bit—to relieve a little pressure.

Looking around for passerbys, Sarah shucked down her wet panties to her knees. Then she waddled up to the leather girl, pressed her mouth up against her slit, and closed her eyes.

Liz started to lick.

* * *

The boys were named Michael and Paul. They were, in fact, twins.

“You’re 18, right?” Anthony demanded, pushing with them to the front of the store.

They looked at each other.

“Sure,” Paul said. Or Michael.

It was getting hard to maneuver in the store. There was tits and ass everywhere. Actual tits were starting to appear, girls giving up on clothes, or unwilling to put growing boobs into inadequate clothes. Increasingly couples were sidling up to corners or the sides of aisles and fucking standing up, hands inserted into things. There were chaotic, semi-orgasmic shrieks. The bell on the door was still dinging and dinging and dinging. People were just leaving with merchandise.

Anthony was well past caring about that. What use money in a world where cooze was the currency? He had already made a ton of money that day, anyway. And there were abandoned purses everywhere—little piles of ordinary clothes and ordinary shoes just abandoned, like a cocoon, by some newly minted bimbo-slut.

“Anthony, by god, Anthony,” said an older man. One of his regulars, Kris, who usually had a line for a mouth and bought his cuckold magazines wordlessly. Now he was wild-eyed. “It’s madness! Total madness! The end of the world!”

Anthony grabbed him by the collar and smacked his customer across the face.

“Get out there and fuck someone,” he snarled. “Keep it together!”

“I can’t! I just like to watch!” Kris moaned. They were fenced in by a pile of tits. Anthony felt hands reaching for his fly. He broke through to the front of the store, hauling the twins with him by force of will. Over there was a girl bending over, two men arguing over who got to fuck her in the ass. By the door new customers were welcomed by a pair of blondes, both topless, hungrily necking while stroking each other’s tits. Some girl was screaming in sheer, orgasmic delight. It sounded kind of like Sarah.

“Hook up the TV,” Anthony shouted, over the sexual din. He had managed to haul his biggest TV up to the big area in the front of the store, and some speakers, before nearly collapsing. Thank god there were millenials about. The twins disappeared into the cabling behind the setup.

Anthony pulled the DVD out of his belt. He had chosen it carefully. It was labeled “FELLATIO NOW!”

“We’re good!” Paul said, giving a thumbs-up. Anthony hit play on the DVD remote.

A big, naked blonde, on her knees, lit up on the screen. Anthony hit volume-up as hard as he could.

“Want to give better head?” the blonde said, cheerfully.

The squabbling, stroking, sucking, fucking, crowd looked up.

A man with an extremely long penis walked onto the screen. The blonde started to stroke him hard.

“I used to give the. Lousiest. Blowjobs,” the blonde said. “It’s okay! They’re hard! No pun intended! You don’t have teeth in your vagina! But with a little work you can get facials in seconds! Watch this.”

The blonde turned towards the man, opened her mouth, and swallowed nearly twelve inches. It simply disappeared into her petite mouth.

The jaws dropped on nearly every girl in the store. A lot of mouths started to water.

The blonde withdrew. “And you too can be this good, with a little help. Now, girls, I want you ALL on your knees!”

Dozens of female knees thumped to the ground.

“Boys, cocks out! And no cumming! You are going to make this fun for your partner!”

Any zippers not already open were opened.

“Now, we start with lesson one,” said the blonde. “We LICK!”

And, in unison, every female in the room started to suckle on someone’s dick.

“Double up if necessary!” Anthony shouted. He exhaled. The class was pacified.

Except then a flustered, red-faced Sarah grabbed his shirt collar and dragged him into the back.

* * *

“Were you going to TELL me at any point that I’ve contracted a SEX VIRUS that makes me a RAVENOUS SLUT?” Sarah said.

“You look good for a ravenous slut!” Anthony said, hopefully.

She did look good. Actually, Anthony had to admit that she was looking kind of slutty. His employee wore a pink skirt as well as a glittery purple tank. Lush, full tits had filled it to overflowing. Her hair seemed longer, and she was breathing hard and fast. But not actually ravenous.

She pointed a finger at him. At some point she had painted her fingernails bright pink, to match her skirt.

“You never said anything! All these people came here like—infected sex zombies—and you encouraged it! They need medical attention!”

Anthony rolled his eyes at her. “Sarah, please, what are you expecting me to do? Did you see the part on the news where this is a worldwide epidemic? I’m not exactly a biochemist. I run a porn store. With you, I might add!”

“Yes, and me! You could’ve said something before tossing me out there with a bunch of fluid-dripping bimbos! I could’ve, I don’t know, quarantined myself or something!”

“You seem fine!” Anthony said.

“Yes, because I’ve spent the last ten minutes getting licked out by a.. A LIVING DOLL!” Sarah paused. “And doing my nails. Anyway, come on, Anthony! I’m here to get a paper written and run a cash register, not to be a MOP for the CUM of a billion hot fuckable boys!”

She paused, suddenly thoughtful. So was Anthony.

“Paper written, huh?” Anthony said.

Even as a virus-infected burgeoning bimbo whore, Sarah had the grace to look embarassed.

“Well… yeah,” she conceded. Sarah absently twirled a lock of her hair. It was turning blonde at the roots. “I mean, come on, did you really think I was just looking for a job?”

Anthony crossed his arms. Outside, the room was full of the sound of sucking. It was like a pacifier convention. “Good! Now mmphh mpphh mmmphhhh,” said the DVD.

“I guess I didn’t realize that an old pornmonger would still have positive illusions,” he said.

“Look, Anthony, I’m SORRY about that, but we’ve got to… I don’t know… maybe tie me down, maybe it’s just a brief infection,” Sarah said. She realized she was twirling in hair, and tossed it away, horror-struck.

“Sarah, you’ve spent all this time here, and you’ve learned very little,” Anthony said. He paced back and forth. “This is a PORN STORE. It’s not a HOSPITAL. I am not here to pass judgment on why people want to suck penises, or wear silly leather clothes, or stick things up their butt, or watch videos of chinese women pooping. I thought you got that when you spoke to the city council. This is not about some sort of sexual therapy, this is about sexual indulgence. Pure sexual indulgence. I’ve got a guy out there who is surrounded by horny women, and he’s masturbating because THAT’S WHAT HE WANTS TO DO.”

Sarah stepped back, mouth open. She was finding it extremely hard, all of a sudden, to contradict a man. She was so desperately horny.

“So if a flood of people come into my shop wanting—NEEDING—help on efficiently getting their rocks off, I am the absolute last person in this country who is going to say to them, NO. I am going to say, get on your knees, and suck this cock! Wear this ball gag! Put this in your ass! You’ll cum like anything! Hold on just a second.”

He stepped out front. On the DVD, the blonde’s voice said “...and then just as the tip of the penis touches the back of your throat, LICK!”

There was a chorus of satisfied male groans.

He returned with one of the redheads. Sarah was suddenly, very acutely aware of how good his cum had tasted. Peaches and cream. She backed away, just a pace, and fall back into a chair.

“Paul, or whichever one you are, pull down your pants,” Anthony said.

Paul was only too eager to comply. His cock was at the ready once again. It was iron-hard, like a tree, emerging from a heavy reddish thatch. It came at her, ready, the big red tip oozing precum. Sarah licked her lips. She could feel all sorts of education swirling down the drain, making way for dick. Her knees fell apart.

“Oh… noooo…” she said. “Anthony, I need to… I can’t fuck that… I’m gonna be a big bimbo if I… oh godddd…”

Her legs lifted up all by themselves, and her skirt fell back. She was naked underneath. Her pussy was soaking wet. Sarah cocked her knees, and was in the absolute perfect position for Paul to take a final step fowards and sink his dick all the way in. It went in in a single fluid movement.

Sarah squeaked. Her eyes dulled. Endorphins dulled any concern. It felt like explosions all over her body. She drooled and bucked around the dick in her.

Paul made his first thrust.

“Excellent!” Anthony said. “And now, the only thing better than one cock in you, is… hold on… should’ve had this ready…”

Sarah, in the chair, was pinned. Eventually Paul picked her up and put her on a nearby low table, which was a lot more comfortable. Not that Sarah really noticed—she would’ve been happy getting fucked on a bed of nails. The cock in her was a revelation. All she needed was to fuck and be fucked, forget papers, forget WRITING, forget anything but that delicious friction and the anticipation of a red hot orgasm.

Something brushed her face. She opened her eyes. Michael’s dick was right next to her mouth. She opened her lips automatically, and it slid in.

“Is TWO dicks! There. Glad that worked out,” Anthony said.

* * *

Things were calming down. Well, they were becoming more organized.

With his new assistants busy fucking his old assistant, Anthony deputized a few more new employees, increasing his workforce by six times in one day. One of them was Kris, who had, with considerable reluctance, allowed a girl to give him a blowjob, and even then only because she seemed a little desperate for it.

“How was it?” Anthony asked, curious.

Kris rolled his eyes.

Vibrators and dildos were dumped in one corner, clothing available in a big pile in another. Two of the aisle shelves were just wire and were quickly put away. Someone ran out to their car and came back with a big pile of towels, which formed the basis of FuckTown, in the old DVD area. Blowjob instructionals continued. One man, Anthony noticed, had been face-fucking girls for a solid hour, without cumming, just letting them practice on a truly coke-bottle cock. Hey, not every hero wore a cape.

He now had a number of girls for rent, three self-made dolls and two dominatrixes among them. The car parking lot was filled with activity, girl legs sticking out of windows, occasional honks when a horn was accidentally hit.

“I think things are starting to get under control,” Anthony said, turning to Claudia, his new female employee, who worked totally naked.

That’s when the authorities came in.

Wearing 3M masks, wild-eyed, brawny men in firefighter or police uniforms. A woman behind them, in librarian clothes barely masking a bimbo-ified body, wielding a bullhorn.

“CLEAR THIS BUILDING!” she shouted, ruining everyone’s fuck. “BY ORDER OF THE CITY! WE ARE INSTITUTING MANDATORY SEXUAL QUARANTINE!”

The men in their uniforms looked at the sea of fucking with barely concealed envy. The librarian thumbed up the volume. “EVERYONE! STOP THIS… THIS… THIS FUCKING!”

The bullhorn made her greedy moan sound odd.

Sarah walked out of the back. Well, she was recognizable as Sarah. She still had her glasses on. Her tits were bigger—huge—big pads of flesh topped with dark brown nipples. She had cum dripping down her chin, running down between her thighs. The skirt had been torn into shreds but still managed to hold on to her expanded waist.

She stared at the uniformed forces in the doorway. Belatedly, the door bell tinkled.

“FUCK THEM!” she roared.

A horde of horny men and women descended on the authorities.

* * *

It was awhile later.

Sarah was back at the cash register. She wasn’t having a lot of luck counting out the day’s take. Numbers kept slipping away from her, in general and specifically whenever the vibrator between her legs buzzed her to a yummy climax. Well, whatever. Numbers were boring.

She wore a brand new white pleated skirt, lace underwear with a missing crotch, and a casual bodytight shirt. No bra. It wasn’t very classy but it was both sexy and kept her from being cold, so that was alright. Sarah considered waking up Paul or Michael, but they had lost a lot of fluids, and needed their rest. She could go a half-hour without jizz, probably.

A polite cough made her raise her head. A beached-blonde stood at the counter, holding a bag, and smiling politely. She had the biggest tits Sarah had seen that day, which was saying something, and enormous cocksucker lips. But there was something about her polite look…

“Meredith?” she hazarded.

The bimbo nodded eagerly.

“I need to return these, too!” the girl said.

She dumped a dozen vibrators and dildos onto the counter. They had all been trashed. Electronics fried, plastic worn down. Even the simple big rubber dong had a limp look. Sarah, who had totally drained two strapping men of their jizz, was impressed.

“Here, you can take some money,” Sarah said, handing her a bundle at random. What-fuckin-ever. But a thought occurred to her.

“Hey, have you considered that there’s something better than, you know, plastic dongs?” she said.

Meredith furrowed her pretty head. Sarah had the sense the virus had done a very thorough job on this one. “No?” the blonde said.

“Yeah, okay, let your friendly porno shop employee help,” Sarah said. She steered Meredith into the back—admiring her ass—where Anthony was slumbering in a chair, snoring away.

“Okay, real dicks are a million times better,” Sarah whispered in her ear. “Just start sucking, and then do whatever he says, okay?”

“Oh, I can do that!” Meredith said, brightly.

Sarah paused. “But be CAREFUL with it, okay?”

“I can!” Meredith whispered, fiercely. She fell onto her knees. Blonde curls tumbled around her. She reached out for Anthony’s pants.

Sarah walked back out front. She idly fingered herself while listening to the sounds of Anthony getting the best head ever. Eventually she noticed the lettering on the side of the cash register, and challenged herself to puzzle them out.

“P..L.E.A.S..uhhhhhh…. U...R...E… S...H...O..P Another P… E!”

Pleased with herself, Sarah treated herself to a super yummy orgasm, and then went to wake up her men.