The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Customer Is Always Right

I don’t know why I ever took this stupid department store job. Sure, the commissions were great, but it was a lot of work. Folding and sorting merchandise, putting up with competitive co-workers always trying to steal my sales and one-up my quota. And let’s not forget the endless tides of horny old men who decided a saleswoman was the perfect target for them to blow the dust off their lechery skills.

At least a waitress got tips to put up with that shit, and could run off to another table to get a break from it. Me, I had no choice but to pretend not to notice their eyes on my breasts.

It was a Saturday afternoon, but thankfully the store wasn’t super busy. I was updating one of the displays when, out of nowhere, someone goosed me!

I whirled around in a fury. How dare some creep just pinch my butt! There the guy was, a bland, unremarkable middle-aged guy standing there calmly like he hadn’t just take it upon himself to pinch me. I’d call my manager Greg over here and throw his ass out.

Only, as I took a moment to compose myself… well, he was a customer, after all. They’d spent hours training us on proper customer service techniques, and part of that meant looking for ways to avoid or minimize conflict. “Welcome to our store, my name is Vivian. How can I help you?” I forced a professional smile, trying to ignore the lingering sensation on my rear.

“Hi, I was in here the other day and I picked up a nice little number, and I was looking to get another one like it.”

“Well great, glad you enjoyed it! Just tell me what you purchased, and I’ll get us moving in the right direction.”

“Well, it was a little bit like this,” he said, running his hands over the front of my blouse, right along the sides of my breasts and down to my hips.

Great, another gropey prick. Stiff upper lip, Vivian.

“So… it was a shirt? Like, a dress shirt?” Familiar touching or not, it was an odd choice. This was pretty clearly a woman’s shirt, and he shouldn’t have needed to feel me up to tell.

“No, not your shirt, miss. Your boobs.”

My jaw dropped for a moment. “My…?” What a crude thing to say! “I believe the term you’re looking for is ‘breasts’ sir. They’re not ‘boobs.’”

“Well with a jacket, blouse, and no doubt some tremendously drab bra on, you should be surprised I even noticed you have them.”

“Well, that’s fair.” I sniffed indignantly. It wasn’t fair at all—I was pretty stacked, to be honest. “Still, what do you mean about my breasts?”

“Like I said, I made a purchase here the other day, and I thought I might like another set.”

“You bought… breasts?” Or were they boobs? Maybe I should just use his term, if I was going to make the sale.

“Yes. From a very gifted young sales associate. Candace, I think her name was?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know Candace.” Did I ever. If I had a nickel for every sale she’d stolen from me when my back was turn, every time I’d had to spend a shift cleaning up her mess because she was too busy trolling for commissions to ever get any folding or inventory done… Candace was a bitch.

“Yes. Well, I was thinking yours looked like they might be a bit bigger than hers, and I think today that’s the kind of mood I’m in.”

I wanted to snort. Might be a bit bigger? I easily had two cup sizes on that bitch. I just didn’t wear v-neck blouses and push-up bras like some desperate ho. I bet this customer was really disappointed once he got a good look at his purchase. Talk about false advertising.

“Well don’t you worry, if you’re in the mood for big breasts, you’ve come to the right place,” I said, taking off my jacket and working at the buttons on my top. He stood by and watched me as I slipped out of my blouse and hung it on an empty hanger.

The man walked in circles around me, inspecting me from all angles. I stood up as straight as I could, sucking in my tummy and thrusting out my boobs for him. Pshaw, no way that flatty Candace could make a sale like me.

“Gee, I dunno…” the man said, grimacing a little.

“What? Is there something wrong with the merchandise?”

“It just feels a little dishonest, trying to sell me your boobs when you won’t even let me see them. The other girl was much more up front about this.”

I pouted, but only for a moment. I mean, in the middle of the store? Still, a sale was a sale. Damnit, why hadn’t I worn a cuter bra today? Then maybe he would’ve bought my boobs sight unseen, and I wouldn’t be having to strip it off in plain view of God and everyone.

There. Bra gone. “Sorry about that sir. Is that better?”

He seemed to consider, reaching out and cupping each boob in turn, squeezing them, patting them and seeing how long they jiggled. “What are these, an XL?”

“They’re actually a XXL, sir.”

“Hmm. Does that cost extra?”

Great, he wanted to haggle over it. “There is a surcharge of $3.95, but I think we can waive that for you.” It was a small amount and I could just take it out of my commission. I used one of my sales tricks, batting my eyelashes ever so slightly, letting my baby blues suck him in.

I guess my bare boobs probably helped.

“Well, that’s very gracious of you. Only… you know, I don’t see a price tag on them. Guess they’re free, huh?”

GOD DAMNIT TO HELL, do I hate the fucking line. It was like there was someone standing outside the store offering $20 to anybody who said that to an employee or something. I swear, if I had it in my power, I would refuse to sell my boobs to this guy altogether. That’s right, take them right off the market.

Only Greg would kill me if he found out I was declining to serve a customer. So I humored him with a little giggle. “If only, right? Here, let me fix that for you.” I didn’t even know what the rate was, but I just estimated based on the rack he’d found them on… I snagged a black marker from my jacket breast pocket—err, boob pocket—and scrawled “$19.99” across my bare chest.

“There we go. You ready to check out?”

He arched an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“Why, is something wrong?”

“No, just… well, I expected you to try to sell me a bit more. Candace was certainly eager to.”

How stupid of me! Geez, I’d almost let a potentially huge commission slip through my fingers. “Oh! Well of course, we have all kinds of other things you might like. Got your eyes on anything else?”

“Well, how about that?” He pointed at my crotch.

Oh great. Just great. Why didn’t I ever get the customers who wanted a pair of blue jeans or a trendy scarf or something? “So you want to buy my, um, vagina?”

“Hey, let’s not get ahead of ourselves and go right for the pussy, sweetheart. I actually meant around back.”

Sweetheart, ugh. I waited to roll my eyes until I’d turned around and bent over, grabbing my ankles as my boobs sunk down to almost rest on my chin. “How’s this?”

“Ehhh…” I looked between my legs at him, and could see he wasn’t sold on it yet.

“Hold on, hold on…” I undid the zipper on my skirt and slid it off, bending right back over and spreading my butt cheeks, my panties creeping into my crack a bit.

I was totally unsurprised when he told me he didn’t really care for the packaging my butt was in—just my usual boring white panties. Not to be daunted, I took his hand and all but dragged him off to the lingerie department. For the next ten minutes, I tried on one pair of panties after another for him, hoping I’d find the one to display the merch just right.

I was careful, of course, not to turn around and show him my pussy. For one, I didn’t think he could even afford it, and for two, I wasn’t some kind of slut. I wasn’t selling him my whole body, just my ass.

Oh, and my boobs too. I couldn’t believe he was willing to shell out $19.99 for them—usually I just let guys have them for free. One born every minute, right?

When my manager Greg came over, I was standing there in a pink thong with a little yellow bow on the back, my feet spread a couple feet apart and pulling my ass cheeks good and wide so he could inspect his purchase.

“Vivian!” he exclaimed just as the customer plopped his thumb into my butt hole. Holy SHIT was I tight back there. “What are you doing?”

“Just helping a customer,” I said, my voice trembling a little as I tried to adjust myself to the pressure in my ass.

“I can see that,” Greg said. “I’m sorry sir, we just have a policy that our guests are required to try on merchandise in the dressing rooms.”

“Oh, nobody told me,” he said, slipping his thumb back out. He made a little face, then grabbed Greg’s tie and wiped it off. “Honest mistake.”

Greg smiled genially. “No trouble. Vivian, why don’t you show him to the dressing rooms?”

“Of course. Sir, this way?” I took his hand and put it on my bare butt cheek. Glancing over my shoulder, I could see that Greg was watching my ass as I strode off. What a perv. When he saw me looking, he gave me an encouraging thumbs up, like he was just a supportive manager and not some creeper checking out his employees.

Soon enough we were alone in the dressing room. I picked the handicapped-ready one, just so we’d have a little more space. I put my hands against the wall and arched my back, cocking my butt from side to side. Showmanship was a big part of salesmanship. “So what do you think?”

“You know, it might be a little big for me, honestly.”

“What? No, you see, it matches my boobs perfectly. You wouldn’t want to go around with a top like this and then try to pair it with some tiny little bottom. It would look ridiculous. You have to think in terms of the whole ensemble.”

“Sure, sure, I’ll grant you that,” the man said, stroking his chin pensively. “But this model has that defect in it.”

“Excuse me? What defect?” I inspected it in the mirror. I had one hell of an ass—this was top shelf product!

He poked me in one spot on my butt a few times and I squinted to make out his point. “What, that? That’s just a mole! You know, many men—err, clients—happen to think it’s very distinguishing. More of a bonus feature, really.”

“All right, all right. Maybe you have a point there. And how much for it?”

“That’s $29.99, plus $10.50 if you want it gift wrapped in this thong.”

“Yeesh, you guys don’t do free gift wrapping?”

I smiled sympathetically. “I know, right? Only around the holidays, unfortunately.”

“Ya know, maybe I’m rushing this. I should just come back then.”

“Oh, c’mon, you don’t want to wait five months to enjoy these, do you?” I grabbed a boob in each hand and shook them around, pinching my nipples a bit and wishing they had the AC turned up higher, so I wouldn’t have to work to get them erect for a customer. Geez, way to make me do my own advertising.

“You make a fair point there,” he said, then bent forward and sucked my left nipple into his mouth. I smiled patiently, cupping them up to his mouth level so he didn’t have to bend as much. I was a good three inches taller than Candace too, so if she could make this sale, I was a shoe-in.

You just have to be willing to go the extra mile for customer satisfaction, I thought to myself as he motor-boated my giant boobs.

He sucked on my nipples for what seemed like forever—so much so I was actually pretty horny, to tell the truth. I know he was just a customer and we had a strict policy against hooking up with clients, but still.

“Those are some big jiggly titties you got there, Viv. I tell you what though, I wonder if you have anything in more of a hand-held though.”

“Of course! We’re actually having a buy-one-get-one sale on those, today only!”

A demonstration, however, was always better than some sales associate’s assurances, so I immediately took my hands and set about removing the man’s pants. Even before I got them off it was obvious he had a boner—still, I was a professional, and I could just pretend not to notice. Not like he was the first customer to get hard from sucking on my titties.

Wait, or was he? I couldn’t really remember. Not that it mattered.

I knelt down in front of him. It really was a shame he was interested in my hands and not my pussy—horny as I was, even if it was just a work transaction it would’ve felt pretty awesome. (Not that my needs mattered compared to the customers. I’d paid attention in training.)

With one hand I played with his balls as the other jacked him off. Over and over I licked my fingers, even sucking up a bit of his precum off of them once I’d gotten him to that point. It was frustrating to keep needing to lubricate, but I had to make the sale.

“You know, I tell you what. Throw in the mouth, and I’ll take both hands.”

“Oh, I’ll need to talk to my manager on that… we’re not authorized to make special deals of that size.”

“Yeah, I was thinking you got kind of a big mouth,” he said, cock twitching in my still gently pumping grip. “So call him on in here then.”

“Sure thing—don’t you go anywhere, OK sweetie?” As someone who prided herself on her professionalism, I hated when I had to resort to a little flirtation. This had potential to be a huge sale, though, so I rushed over to the intercom outside the dressing room and paged Greg.

When he arrived—I left the door open so he could easily find us—I was back to jacking off the customer. “Everything all right, sir? I know Vivian here can be quite a handful sometimes.” His tone was pleasant, but I know Greg, he was ready to chew me out at the hint of negative feedback. Good grief, here I was literally jacking off a customer, and he still worried I wasn’t committed enough.

“More like she has her hands full, right?” the customer quipped. “But seriously, she’s been great, very accommodating.”

“Great, great. So what can I do for you?”

“Sir, I told him handjobs were two hands for the price of one, but he’s interested in my mouth, too. Can we throw that in for free?” My mouth sure seemed to hope so—I was practically drooling at the prospect of it. I guess I just take customer service seriously, even subconsciously.

“Free? Gee… I’m sorry, sir, but Vivian’s mouth is a pretty tall order, heavy demand there—we have guys in here all the time asking for it.”

We did? Wow, who knew.

“Oh? I didn’t see a price tag on it, so…”

“Ha ha ha,” Greg managed woodenly. I knew he hated that line as much as I did. “No, but I can bring it down to $45.”

“That sounds awfully steep for something I haven’t even tried on…”

“Well you can check for yourself—mouth of a hot little number like her would run over $70 at our competitors. And, since I see you’re making a serious purchase here today, I tell you what. You can have it for $35—more than 20% off.”

I looked up at him as I kept tugging his cock, licking my ruby red lips to sweeten the deal. “Can I at least try it on for a minute?” the man asked.

“Sure!” I said, maybe too eagerly. I don’t know why this particular sale mattered so much to me, but it sure did.

“But no cumming in it,” Greg said. “Store policy—you cum in it, you buy it. No refunds.”

“Understood, my good man.”

“Great—I’ll leave you two to it!” Greg said, stopping only to pat my head as I impaled my face on the customer’s dick. It already kind of tasted like my spit. Whatever. I was determined to close this deal.

It was weird—normally I didn’t really like sucking cock. My boyfriends had complained over and over about it, but then, I was plenty hot enough that it was easy to trade them in for somebody who was content with something more mutual.

Professionally, though, I was putting my heart and soul into it. I took all the values I’d learned in training and put them to work for me.

Values like integrity. We’d told this man my sweet little mouth was worth up to $70—in another store, but still, that meant it was worth $70 to somebody—and I was going to earn it. Neck cramps, tired tongue, the distraction of other customers coming into the dressing room area to find me squatting naked and blowing some guy… none of that mattered.

Friendliness. It wasn’t easy to smile with this man’s rather impressive cock plugging my face, but a smile began in the eyes, after all. I gazed up at him, eyes welling up a bit as he started penetrating my throat. Still, I think he knew I looked happy.

Putting the customer’s needs first. I’ll be the first to admit I wasn’t exactly a top notch cock sucker. Sure, maybe I had a pretty face, great breasts—err, boobs, big hot jiggly titties—a nice round ass… but that wasn’t what he wanted. I took his hands and brought them to the side of my head. He seemed to understand the offer, and within moments he had a firm grip on my hair and was just fucking my face.

It actually felt really good. Maybe not physically, his hands clenched in my hair, his broad cock head plunging in and out of my throat, the difficulties breathing when he decided to stay in there for a bit. Psychologically though, it was heaven. This was what I had been trained to do. Serve. Give. Be helpful. Find someone with a need and fill it, like he was filling my mouth with dick.

I was a sales girl after all. This was my life.

Then he came. More than ever, I was glad for my training, and I gulped down his jizz like the trained, dedicated professional service woman that I was. I sucked and sucked until not another drop would come out.

“Sorry about that. I guess that’ll be thirty-fuhhhhhp…!” I couldn’t believe it. I guess I’d drank the cum so quickly that it made me burp some up. I coughed in surprise and some leaked down my chin and dripped down onto my titties. “Um, thirty-five dollars,” I finished in embarrassment, scooping up the cum and sucking it back down.

The customer smiled as he pulled his pants back up, and I caught my breath as he guided me out of the dressing room and into the store. There was actually a line at the register because of how long I’d been letting him try on my mouth. I mouth an “I’m sorry” to him as I hurried around to check out the other customers while he waited his turn.

The other customers couldn’t help but gape a little at my sweaty naked titties, at how hard my big pink nipples were, at the big wet stain in the crotch of my thong. I was all smiles for them, though, all “did you find everything OK” and everything. One guy leered at me crudely and ask, “are those for sale?” as he pointed at my boobs.

“All sold out, unfortunately,” I said politely, ignoring the woman behind him who just rolled her eyes at my undressed state. Like she’d never used her body to get anything.

Which reminded me of another thing I hate about this shitty job—all those judgmental stares from people, looking down their noses at you because they think they’re too good for folding clothes and nude modeling and getting their faces fucked in a dressing room.

Fucking bourgeois snobs.

Finally, I got the line done and out of the way and started ringing up my guy. “All righty, so let’s see here, that’s $19.99 for my big jiggly titties, $29.99 for my ass and $10.50 for the thong—if you’re sure you still want it?”

“Yeah, what the heck, I’ll treat myself.”

“OK, then $13.52 for hands—”

“For the pair, right?”

“Yep, sure is. So then, $35 for my mouth, and… that’s $74 even. Unless I can interest you in anything else?” I trailed my fingers between my boobs, down my bare tummy, and across my snatch. Fuck that felt good.

Oh what the hell. I slid my thong aside and started teasing my sopping wet pussy lips. I could make one last pitch.

“Ha, to think I was almost out of here, but you sales girls, you always get me with the impulse wall.” He chuckled to himself as I hopped up on the countertop, spread my legs and began masturbating in earnest.

I laid down across the counter, one hand pawing eagerly at my titties as I frigged my cheap little pussy. I was such a bargain he’d be crazy not to buy it. So fucking cheap. Not even seventy-five bucks, and this guy practically owned me. Only… only…

“H-how much did you buy from Candace?”

“The ‘comprehensive package,’ I believe she said it was.”

“And… oh fuck, oh God… and h-how much did sh-she… cost?” So close. So fucking close. I was so accommodating. Such a good sales girl. So hard-working. So cheap.

“Hmm, let’s see here…” He produced his checkbook from a pocket and scanned it, me finger-fucking my pussy all the while. Oh please. Oh fucking please.

“Looks like I cut the store a check for… $70 even.”

It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on me. How could I call myself a professional if I let myself get undercut by a flat-chested skinny-butted half-trained trollop like Candace? I had to do this.

“Wait! I can’t believe I forgot to mention our sale!”

“Color me intrigued, Vivian.”

“What about… what… about,” I panted, still feverishly toying with my cunt, “this hot little item? One of a kind!”

“Let’s not be prideful. Candace sold me one that looked just like it. And it turned out not to even fit right—too loose around the groin.”

“I can barely even fit two fingers in here—I promise, it’ll fit like a glove. So fucking tight for you, ungh!” I moaned. God I was helpful.

“I dunno, what’ll it cost me?”

“No no—it’s, mm, it’s actually a discount. Just swipe my little slot.”

“What, like a coupon?”

I nodded. “Exactly. You let me fit you in my box, and we shave $5 off your purchase.”

“Is that all you’ll shave?” he asked.

“You buy it and we do custom detailing, however you like,” I wheezed. Fuck, just buy it. Buy me.

“All right then—sold! With the discount, I believe I owe you sixty-nine?” There was a rush of pleasure at closing the deal—but I kept myself on the edge. It wouldn’t be right to put my needs first. He wrote out the check, and I accepted it with a trembling hand and deposited it in the register.

I had made the sale of a lifetime.

“Put everything in here,” he said, gesturing to a nearby shopping cart. I walked around the corner on shaking legs, my orgasm still only a hairsbreadth away, but nonetheless determined to do my job.

The man put his hand on the back of my neck and just bent me face-first into the cart, then guided my feet up so I was standing on the lower rack. In effect, I was riding the front of the cart with my ass in the air, my torso tucked away. As his property.

“Need any help loading your purchases into your car?” I heard Greg asked as he came up behind us.

Then, a cock—his cock, my customer’s satisfied cock—slid effortlessly into my pussy. That was it—it pushed me over the edge. The perfect shopping experience. I had given everything I had to satisfy this customer. I was the best salesgirl in the company.

The cart began moving, steered by his cock in my tight little pussy. Tight, just as I’d promised it would be. “Don’t sweat it,” he said to Greg. “I’ll just wear it out of the store.”