The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

It was not totally unusual to see a boy in Georgia’s. But typically escorted, bearing a wan smile, some woman drawing him in, her hand actually pulling him along. The bookstore was not particularly concerned with strident feminist messaging, but men were finely attuned to the slightest hint of female-centric retail. Even an endcap with a set of science-fiction novelists, all of them women, was enough to trigger some sort of male alarm.

The guy in the dark black coat over by RELATIONSHIPS was, however, alone. And entirely at ease. He was looking at, with apparent interest, a shelf mostly about emotional management of lesbian couplehood.

“Head’s up,” April said. “Third row. Big black coat. Male.”

Jun looked up, and back down. “That is a boy, yes. Are we ogling? What are we doing with the boy?”

“He is unusual,” April said. “We are keeping an eye on him.”

“There’s no need,” Jun said. She was deeply involved in managing buybacks. The vast share of the store’s income came from textbook sales through the social sciences. Partly professors idealizing little bookstores, partly the owner’s generous kickbacks. “I know exactly what he’s going to buy.”

“Go ahead,” April said. She watched him pick up a book entitled “The Empathic Sapphic.”

“He’s going to pick up one of those ‘How to Blow Your Boyfriend,’ manuals we have for some reason, plus one of the ‘Eat Better Ass,’ books, and package them up as a mutual present to his girlfriend. I will wager a hundred million dollars on this.”

“Hmm,” April said. She considered the customer. He was handsome in a spindly way, just shy of spidery. Long arms and legs that stuck out of his heavy black coat, the buttons buttoned up tight. He favored one of those scraggly beards April typically hated, but it was somehow saved by being stark, jet black—dramatically black, like a Shakespearean villain. And he was somehow paler than she was. She couldn’t decide if he was the type of guy to cheerfully eat his girlfriend’s butt. Maybe.

Josephine strode out from the back room. “Bennett?” she called out. Both of the clerks startled. It was rare enough to see the owner, emerged from her den. And then the customer gave her a half-wave, and walked, with total confidence, into the back office. Each had only been there once. And that was for the job interview.

“You lose,” April said.

“I can still win,” Jun insisted. “He just needs to buy the books. He’s an ass-eater blowjob-liker, count on it.”

“He’ll be fine,” Josephine reassured them.

“Hmmm, there’s a word in there that isn’t fine. Hmm,” Jun said. She was boyish, Korean, with short brown hair. “He! That’s the word. It’s he. Problem word.”

April held off on agreeing. She had mixed emotions when it came to men.

She’d thought, many times, that everything would’ve been much easier if she had simply gone to liberal arts college and gone hard, thorough lesbian. Hell, she had read a number of memoirs on the subject, where the word “awakening” was used early and often. And lord knew how jam-packed she was with useful Man Facts about rape and murder. She knew, just knew, that she would’ve made an excellent and attentive lover of other girls.

But there was the painful fact that she was attracted to boys. There was just no way around it. Boys were cute. Heterosexuality was her burden to bear. As self-centered and violent and overall male as they were, they were attractive.

And this one… she had caught just a glimpse of his gaze, walking into the backroom. Light blue eyes that caught every ray from the old fluorescent lights. Mortifying how hard her heart skipped, how hard she bit her lip.

“What are you saying, Jun?” Josephine said. She had a way of turning questions back that made both of them wriggle. “Don’t hire men? That’s illegal. And not progressive one bit.”

Jun made a point of rolling her eyes, turning to both of them so they could see. She was just a little too tall and a little too thin to be described as squat. She wore jeans and t-shirts but with incredible verve. April, long-time gawky and encased in flannels, deeply admired her style.

“C’mon, Josephine. Are you telling me he applied, you vetted him, and he was the BEST person for this job with an entire campus of Aprils to choose from? I didn’t even know we were hiring!” Jun said.

Was that a compliment? With Jun it was never totally clear.

“He’s very, very nice, and he’s passionately feminist and quite self-aware,” Josephine said. “He quoted from A Room of One’s Own. From memory.”

“Those are the worst ones!” Jun said. “They’re snakes! You should’ve just hired a big dumb doof if you needed someone to lift boxes. Or had April start doing free weights! You start trying to find a woke guy, it’s just trouble. It won’t work.”

Josephine chuckled. She had her hands spread out on the table. They sat at the little bench that was all the available seating in the bookstore. Ten sets of shelves, stacked up to the ceiling, in a retail space carved out of a mid-70s concrete block. A barber on one side, the stairwell to the parking on the other, sunlight a distant dream far down the concourse. It was as inviting and welcoming as a cold garage, and Josephine had kept it alive for over fifteen years. Jun went silent.

“He’s just a clerk, ladies,” she pronounced. “I expect the three of us can handle him. So be nice.”

They took him to lunch on the first day. Jun wasn’t even supposed to be working, but came in anyway, unpaid, to keep an eye on him. April had assured her that it wasn’t necessary—Josephine was presumably in the back—but her fellow sales clerk hadn’t listened.

“Where do you want to go?” Bennett asked. He wore that black coat again. His voice was a lot deeper than his unassuming frame—maybe one or two inches taller than April, who had told herself all her life that she never wanted to wear heels anyways.

“You can pick, you’re the new kid,” Jun said. She had worn her favorite t-shirt, a bright red one that read “...MEN…” right in the middle.

They watched him intently. Suggesting a vegan place would be try-hard although not technically a faux pas. Suggesting a burger place would be insulting. Suggesting a “korean place” or “chinese place” would be disappointing, although suggesting a specific restaurant by name might be passable. An expensive restaurant would be presumptuous, a chain restaurant would be gauche. A coffee shop would be weird.

“Pizza?” he said. “This one?” He pointed to their immediate right.

Valentino’s, where Jun and April went three times a week. It was the perfect choice. Jun realized it, too. She looked disappointed.

“So. Bennett Allen Nomeda. Tell us about yourself,” Jun said, once they were seated.

Bennett demurred. He laughed politely, held his hands up. “Boring Dude, that’s myself. Getting my Master’s. Needed a job. Got this one.”

“Master’s in what?”

He waved his hand, vaguely. “Interdisciplinary. You know. Various disciplines. What about you two?”

And his eyes settled right on April.

She was aware of her mouth hanging open.

April was suddenly deeply conscious of everything about herself. The fact she wore a shoddy fleece zip-up that had a layer of grime around the collar. The fact that she had hated her neck/chin area for her entire life. That she had washed her hair approximately 37 hours ago and it was wilting.

What was wrong with her? She’d locked eyes with men before. Many times. They didn’t ordinarily make her do a personal survey.

His gaze shifted over to Jun. April remembered to take a breath. “What the hell was that?” she wanted to say. True, she had always struggled with eye contact—another personal failing to berate herself with. But this was like a probe. Like his gaze went right through her.

Jun also skipped a beat. “Uh. I’m… I’m a… sales clerk, I guess,” she said. Jun actually broke eye contact first, and looked down at the table. Both girls had their eyes demurely downcast. April felt her cheeks flush.

“Great, me too,” Bennett said. “So we’re all set.” He picked up a menu, and April felt real relief. She could look up again. Even studying pizza options, the big blue eyes pulled in her attention. “Its an honor, really. Especially in the dying age of books. We’ll be in a documentary some day, describing what paper felt like. The last of the clerks!”

Both girls giggled. They refused to look at each other—giggling, imagine. Jun struggled to get her typical attitude back up. “So you’re okay with working in a gynocracy? Big capital-A ally in Pussytown, selling books about how to kill men? That’s fine? Be honest with us.”

“Wow,” Bennett said. He started to look up. April embarrassed herself with how quickly she dropped her gaze. “Do I get a special uniform? Is it just tighty-whities and a hat?”

“Just a collar to start,” Jun said. She had her teeth clenched to try and meet his gaze. “Male underpants require proving yourself in the glorious woman-centric future.”

Bennett locked eyes with her. April watched her friend defiantly stare right back into his eyes, waver, and fail. She toyed with her phone, which featured a picture of her riding piggyback on her boyfriend. “A collar, huh,” Bennett said. He smiled slightly. “Gosh.”

He picked up the check. April wanted to say something about that, but somehow, nothing came out.

After a few days April was ready to admit, reluctantly, that it was nice to have a guy around.

She even googled “male upper body testosterone,” and read, mildly jealous, about why Bennett could haul around large stacks of books with apparent ease. It was hardly fair. He didn’t even need to do anything to acquire ropey arms and broad shoulders. She got to bleed every month and perhaps die in childbirth, he got mighty man muscles and was tall and grew facial hair.

It might even have been better if he complained about getting tasked with hauling, that he and his incipient Master’s were used to move shelves of textbooks around.

But he didn’t complain. Bennett never, ever complained. She and Jun had even pushed boundaries a bit, ordering him to stack, move, shuffle, and otherwise push paper which was, in enough quantity, actually pretty heavy. He just did it.

“I wasn’t expecting to sweat this much working at a bookstore,” was the closest he came to a complaint. And even that was delivered with his usual mild affect. Plus he finally took off his coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves. As April had expected, he had dark black hair all over his forearms, which also a rough tan she had not expected. But which was not unwelcome.

His politics were fully vetted, his knowledge of literature thorough. He listened without complaint to Jun’s thorough treatment of Socialists vs. Liberals, and her numerous views on intersectionality, with grave and understanding nods.

And just when Jun and April suspected him of being an empty suit, an amiable nodder with no real opinions, he surprised them with a vicious savaging of divorce.

“Disgusting,” he pronounced them. “Treats women as disposable. As trophies. Or settlement values. And that is it. Overvalues sex and undervalues commitment.”

This was heterodoxy, but intriguing, and both the girls listened in. Frankly, when Bennett did bring his eyes up, and look right at them, the easiest thing to do was look down and listen quietly. There was just too much of everything in those blue eyes.

“I mean… in the pre-divorce world…” Jun tried, only to trail off once Bennett locked eyes with her.

“When you read the bible there’s one thing that Jesus cared about that truly set him apart, and it’s divorce. He was against it,” he shook his head. He hadn’t rolled his sleeves back up, and April kept glancing at them. She’d never really appreciated forearms before. “If you can’t commit to even one woman, how can you call yourself a feminist?”

There was much to discuss. Sexual and personal freedom, the treatment of marriage as overriding the self, the historical imprisonment in bad marriages. April just nodded, fervently. It all seemed very correct. What was there to say to a man who was so passionate about commitment, especially when there was a light glaze of sweat on his arms, and his eyes shone so fiercely, and he had just carried around all of Biography without complaint?

There were other benefits. Business was up. It was hard to say if it truly was because there was a guy behind the counter, but the register was ringing. April witnessed a pack of freshman girls walking by, notice Bennett up on the ladder, reshelving furiously, and do a u-turn. They bought a hundred and fifty dollars worth of books.

She couldn’t stop noticing things about him. Details. Bennett wore dress shoes that he clearly shined before coming in, as April caught whiffs of shoe leather and black polish. He walked in to work, but mentioned owning a bicycle. He owned a collection of very nice jeans that fit him perfectly, in many different brands. He had a thick mat of dark black chest hairs that would peek through the triangle at the top of his shirt. He almost certainly lifted weights, as every so often he would pick up a big stack of boxes, and one of the top buttons would pull apart. Underneath he always wore white A-shirts. He grunted whenever he picked up something heavy. April noticed those grunts.

And then one day Jun came in to work upset.

She tried to hide it, washing her face right away and parking herself behind the register. Then she went on a furious texting binge that lasted the better part of an hour, her head bowed down. Her nose ran constantly, and she kept wiping it with her sleeve, which was soon thick with snot.

April kept a worried watch over her. It was apparent to her that something was extremely wrong, not least because Jun wasn’t supposed to work at all that day. But it was Bennett who finally said something.

“Everything okay?” he said, very gently.

“Everything in my life is incredibly great,” Jun said. She looked up stone-faced, caught Bennett’s eyes, and broke into sobs.

“I broke up with Chul,” she said, eventually.

Bennett handed her a cup of coffee. April looked at the cup, speechless. He had a cup of coffee ready for this very moment? When had he even made it?

“He’s been such a piece of shit lately,” Jun said, between gulps. “Just a total asshole piece of shit. He’s been talking about spending a semester abroad and he wants to control the hell out of me while he’s gone, and it’s made him fucking crazy.”

“Have him come here,” Bennett said. He caught the glance of a duo walking into the store, and gave just the slightest shake of the head. They walked away. “I’ll be around while you talk to him. You break it off clean, I’ll sweep it up.”

“I mean,” Jun gestured helplessly at her phone, which was still cascading with texts in Korean. And various emojis. “He’s gone nuts. I don’t know what happened. I think he’s drunk. He’s saying these things... “

“Why is this so hard for some men?” Bennett groused. He took Jun’s phone from her and typed into it. “There. He’s coming over.”

“What’d you say?” Jun said. She sniffled. “And since when do you know Korean?”

“Just enough to piss someone off,” Bennett said. He smiled at her. “Drink your coffee.”

Chul was large and drunk. Jun had composed herself and seated herself at the small table that usually housed book suggestions. April stood beside her, considered putting her hand on Jun’s shoulder, and thought better of it. It had struck her that she knew absolutely nothing about Chul, how long they had been together, or anything at all about their relationship.

Chul had a large, round face, swaggering thick arms, and wore a dark black performance t-shirt with the sleeves scrunched up around his biceps. Jun burst into tears at the sight of him. He swelled up, eyes wide, face covered in sweat.

Bennett gutpunched him. A swift rabbit punch that happened so fast April couldn’t react beyond going rigid. She had never really seen boys fighting, outside of some middle school scuffles she had kept far away from. And this wasn’t really a fight—the breath went right out of Chul, who clutched at his midsection.

“Leave Jun alone,” Bennett said, his arm around Jun’s ex. The bigger man struggled to breathe. Bennett’s hand had dug in to his upper arm. He caught Bennett’s eyes. They were dark—weirdly dark. April gaped at it all—weren’t they blue?—it was all happening very fast. And then Chul dropped his gaze, let his shoulders sink, and noisily threw up all over their floor.

Bennett didn’t move, even as Chul’s liquor-stinking vomit splashed all over his nice black shoes. He waited patiently until it was all gone, and then whispered something in Chul’s ear.

“Sorry,” the man mumbled, his shirt sodden. The bookstore reeked, suddenly, of booze and stomach acid.

He turned and left.

“There you go,” Bennett said. He looked at his shoes. “Didn’t know he was going to do that. Hold on, I’m gonna get the mop. Do we even have a mop?”

“We have paper towels,” Jun said. She wiped her eyes clear. “Holy shit.”

“Bennett shouldn’t’ve done that,” Jun said, later. Bennett had cleaned up the floor and left. They had both been told to call him “at any time” in the unlikely event that Chul returned. There was still a lingering scent in the air, a bitter and astringent mixture of cleaning fluid and Chul and vodka.

“For sure,” April said, nodding her head. “Definitely. That was way out of line.”

“I mean, I knew Chul, he wasn’t going to DO anything. He was just drunk,” Jun said. She had her gaze still on the ground, which was now shining and clean. “We’d been together for a year and a half. He just thought he was losing me, which he was, and… all of that happened.”

“It wasn’t Bennett’s call,” April said. She sat with her legs tightly crossed. She’d gotten Jun her second cup of post-breakup coffee. “Totally out of line. He heard breakup and immediately went to, I have to kick this guy’s ass to make a point. It was pure neanderthal. It was gross.”

“Gross. Exactly,” Jun said. She took a long, shuddering breath. “Okay. Yeah. He didn’t need to do that at all. And he didn’t need to just… take over the situation. Not at all. It was fine. I had it under control.”

“There you go,” April said.

They sat in companionable silence for a long time. April had the store shut.

“Not that we need to say anything to Josephine or anything like that,” Jun said. She finally brought her eyes up to meet April’s, and then back down.

“No, not at all,” April said, relieved. She had been figuring out how to work that into the conversation for quite some time. “He was worried.”

“Yeah. Worried. You know. That’s fair. Probably saw how big Chul was and figured he had to take the first shot… and… I guess he’s really good at fighting. And he speaks Korean.”

“Yeah.”

Jun rubbed at her hair. “Did he really just hit him once?”

“Once,” April confirmed.

Jun licked her lips. “Oh.” she said. “So he must lift and stuff.”

“I’ve thought that before,” April said.

“Me too,” Jun admitted. They both nursed their coffee cups. “This is a good example of male violence though,” Jun said. “Brutal and nasty and peremptory.”

“Oh absolutely,” April said. She made a show of checking the time on her phone. “Jun, I’ve got to run, okay? Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

She made her way back to her apartment, a little studio just off campus, decorated with poster-sized blown-up novel covers cleverly muddied and abstracted by an artist Josephine knew. She lived by herself, and had repeatedly considered getting a duo of cats.

April pulled a box out from underneath the bed. She kept a trio of toys in a brown paper bag. A very large and very unused dildo, a small little wand, and an intense buzzy thing with a set of prongs that April had never really figured out how to use. She picked up the wand. Her hands were hot. She was going to feel weird and guilty about this the next day, she could already tell. There were going to be intense internal reflections about her sexuality. Bennett’s face, both intense and unconcerned, flashed through her head. Just when he was punching another guy.

She slid her pants down to her ankles, got her panties down as well. They were soaked through. Had that ever happened before? Something else to worry about later. She’d spent the entire conversation with Jun thinking about how wet she was, how she could feel the A/C on her overheated skin.

It was all mortifying. She had never felt this way before. This was drippy victorian bodice-ripper bullshit, getting hot and bothered because a man was taking command. Boys fighting over girls. Not even over her. Over Jun. A big drunk idiot had barfed right in front of her and she had practically creamed herself. April sat on the bed and thumbed the wand to full power. She stuck it between her thighs. It felt amazing. Just what she needed. She hadn’t realized how much tension she was carrying. Her legs inched even farther apart, and she buzzed the thing right on top of her clit. It should’ve hurt. It was intense.

Already an orgasm was right on top of her. It was hard to think clearly, or think at all. And the only thing that intruded on the mind-numbing peace of a truly brain-shattering cum was Bennett’s eyes flashing from dark to light.

“Jun, I want to apologize,” Bennett said, the next day.

April watched from behind the register. It was really the first time in her life she had spent serious time around a guy she had also gotten hot and bothered over. True, she had mildly melted over various guys in various classes, and bit her lip at men on a screen. But those had been ultimately abstracted images. Bodies. Not a man who murmured things right behind her ear, or licked his lips when reading something, or fixed those blue eyes on her. She was having a rough time with it. Her hormones, so blessedly easy to deal with all adolescence, were getting their revenge.

“I saw what he wrote to you, I felt like it was a potentially abusive situation, and I acted,” Bennett said. Jun stared right back into his eyes, helpless. April was mildly jealous. She fought to tamp it down.

“It’s… no problem,” Jun said. She looked away. But Bennett wasn’t done.

“It’s a problem,” Bennett said. “I got way over my head. I’m here to support you, not act for you. It won’t happen again.” He put his hand on top of hers. April gritted her teeth. “I just got—it’s not an excuse, but I have strong opinions about the way men should act around women. I get a little protective. And I’m sorry.”

April fled to the bathroom.

Not for the first time she considered how much easier it had to be to be male.

Men didn’t think about their skin quality. Men didn’t have to consider issues of lip gloss versus lipstick, and the manifold things communicated with every item of clothing and piece of jewelry. April had dealt with it all by trying hard not to care. But now she couldn’t help but catalogue and assess—her nose was too long, too flat, her eyes tending to sunkenness, her forehead a bit too high, the whole affect just shy of horsiness.

All of it either salvaged or completely ruined—depending on how she was feeling—by a pair of puffy, heavy lips that boys immemorial had stared at.

Her frame was either willowy and slender or just thin. She’d rounded out a little bit, but generally still felt like a ladder with hair. All behind flannels and jeans. Bras that she was feeling much more strongly about now that her nipples were cutting glass around the damn boy.

Bennett was still talking when she got back, blonde hair now teased to frame her face, lips covered in pink lip gloss. “...so thanks, Jun.” he finished. Jun’s eyes were glassy and heavy. It took Jun a moment to put some words together.

“Bennett?” she said, eventually.

“Yes?”

“Where did you learn to read Korean?”

“Oh,” he waved his hand, deprecating. “It’s just a language.”

April couldn’t really help herself. Flirting with Bennett was just extremely fun.

Once she had committed to it, having a crush on her co-worker was engaging, rewarding, and very sexy. April quickly developed a rich vein of fantasies that revolved around work at the book store. They weren’t particularly feminist—actually they weren’t even a little bit feminist—but they were very, very nice. Bennett pushing her against the wall and, desperate for her body, stripping off her clothes. Bennett pounding her on Josephine’s desk while Jun worked, unsuspecting, out in the front. Bennett keeping her from going to work so he could fuck her before breakfast.

April surprised herself with a bunch of fantasies that involved a lot—a lot a lot—of her sucking Bennett’s dick.

At first just a fun one where he attempted to sell books and ring up charges while she nuzzled him under the bench. But soon after that the ‘April sucks dick’ fantasies started to arrive fast and furious. April sucking his cock in the bathroom. April getting a facial before, after, during work. April sucking him so hard he jizzed down her throat.

They were disconcerting fantasies. In a certain sense they could be rationalized—always self-conscious of her big lips, this was just her subconscious responding. But whatever fellatio was, it was not very politically correct. Hell, it would’ve been better if she was fanatical about getting her ass fucked. There was nothing more internet porn, nothing more sadly submissive, than some girl mutely servicing a man. So it was a bummer, sort of, that she kept returning to her frantically tonguing his dick as her go-to cum thought. Kept having brain-shattering orgasms to it, kept touching herself to the idea. Kept wanting to suck his penis.

It was also a little bothersome how Bennett just passed off her sad attempts at flirting. The first time she said “don’t crush the boxes, mister muscles,” he gave her a look of such vague surprise she considered running out to the street, never stopping. She was more successful with putting her hands all over his glorious body. Mostly his biceps, his back, his shoulders. They were great shoulders. Once she squeezed them both and had to go calm down in the bathroom.

The problem was that April was reasonably sure Jun had a crush on him too.

Jun’s wardrobe made an abrupt change after the ex-boyfriend affair. Prior, April had no idea that the girl had really good tits. Afterwards, they were very thoroughly and very constantly on display. Low cut tanktops at a minimum, maybe dressed up with a long-sleeved shirt. Tunics and blouses and a number of other odds and ends all showed up, all with deep scoop necks practically down to the nipple line. Even her t-shirts were seemingly a few sizes smaller, the sarcastic and/or political lines on them hard to read over her boobs. Perched on the register chair, all Jun had to do was lean over slightly to give Bennett full access.

It was hard for April not to critique. Jun had swallowed her sharp tongue, her acid comments. She was practically shy, deferential, around Bennett. When they all went out to lunch it was, increasingly, the Bennett Opinions Hour, also featuring April’s fervent nods and Jun’s tits.

“I wanted to check in,” Josephine said. Bennett had been sent out for coffees. They had barely seen the owner since Bennett had been hired.

If Josephine picked up on anything amiss, she didn’t say. Jun wore a deep v-neck with the lacy bits of her bra just visible. April, to her deep embarrassment, had picked that day to risk her first ever pair of yoga pants and a bright pink fleece, paired deliberately with her first stick of pink lipstick. It was a very blonde look.

“I know you had voiced some concerns,” Josephine said, glancing back and forth. Neither of them had said anything. “About Bennett changing the tenor of the store. And I have to be frank with you two, sales are up. Sales are up a lot. Not the same kind of sales as before, I grant, but they are sales.”

“What do you mean?” Jun asked.

Josephine hesitated. “Well, to be honest, most of the money before was… you know. Books with interrlocking gender signs on the cover and thirteen co-authors. Friedan. Now… not so much. A bit more on the… eros… side of things.”

April knew what she meant. Somehow the campus had just now cottoned on that they sold sex books. It truly amazed her that anyone would exchange good money for books about sex when there was an entire internet available. But a lot of the buyers were couples, doing it together, out of some sort of shared relationship moment.

“I have nothing against Bennett,” April blurted out. “Bennett is great. Great guy. Perfect.”

“No guy is perfect,” Jun said, eyes flashing.

“You don’t like him?” April said. She let her eyes dash down into Jun’s cleavage, then raised a quick eyebrow.

“I like him just as much as you,” Jun said. She ran her tongue over her own lipstick, glared at April. April flushed. In retrospect of course it was obvious, but she had counted on Jun keeping her eyes down.

Josephine paused. “Well, good! Very good! Let me know if there are any problems, okay?”

“Oh, we will,” Jun said. She locked eyes with April. It wasn’t a gaze, for once, that April had trouble returning.

Later that day they had a nasty, vicious fight over a boy. Jun and April walked into the back office by unspoken accord, shut the door, and conducted it in a whisper, so that Bennett wouldn’t hear.

“Very nice lipstick, April,” Jun had started with.

“Thanks,” April said. She felt a harsh flash of annoyance. Were they really going to do this? Have a dumb fight over a coworker that neither of them were even dating?

“Have you watched any tutorials on youtube? Anything like that? Because it’s not enough to just put it on and that’s it for the day,” Jun said. She panAprilmed reapplication. Her own lipstick was a dark brown. “You need to touch it up, protect it, its a whole thing. Slathering it on, that’s not gonna work.”

They were doing this.

“Thanks for the tips. Nice tits by the way,” April said.

They glared at each other.

“Just go fuck him if you want,” Jun said. She sat down on Josephine’s desk, which was unusually scattered with pieces of paper. “Go for it! Do it! Fuck Bennett! Clearly you want to! You keep petting him like that, he’ll turn into a golden retriever.”

“I’m not… look, Jun, what do you want? Are you holding back because of me? You want to take your own shot? Go ahead! Do it! Bennett is a good guy, he’ll go for it. Just let a boob fall all the way out, you’re most of the way there.” It was hard to fight in whispers, and worse that April was now hyper-conscious of her lips. She needed to fix her lipstick.

Jun gave her a withering look. “You think that’s how the world works? That I get to date him when there’s a blonde girl with fat lips showing off her ass? No. No, that isn’t how it goes. You get whatever guy you want, I get either the asshole white guys who practice their Japanese on me, or some doucheholes who live their days worrying I actually want to fuck white men.”

“I met your ex already,” April said. Oh, they were at threat level omega, now. She had to de-escalate against this BITCH who had crapped on her LIPS.

“Jun, he already writes IN KOREAN, for whatever reason, and he stares at your tits, which are three times the size of my own, and he hasn’t made a single move on me,” April said. She let her voice go up, and had to grit her teeth. This was mortifying, and all she really wanted to do was watch some fucking makeup tutorials. “GO FUCK BENNETT!”

This was way too loud, and they both waited, silently, for some sort of noise from outside. Nothing.

“No, because even if I do, I’m always going to be looking over my shoulder, because you keep looking at him hoping he’ll throw you onto a bed,” Jun concluded.

“Is it really that obvious?” April said.

“YES! YOU MASSAGE HIS SHOULDERS!”

Another wait for the noise to die down. They both regarded each other.

“Jun, we can’t do this. Yes, Bennett is a good guy,” that wasn’t enough, and they both knew it. “A REALLY good guy. But he’s a coworker, and there’s two of us, and there’s one of us, and also he’s a coworker.”

Jun rapped her fingers on the desk. “Fuck.”

“Right, we can’t.”

“Fuck! Okay, you’re right. God damn fucking asshole shit fucking men!” Jun slammed a palm against the table. “They don’t even do anything and we’re fighting over them. Men are a disease.”

“Except Bennett,” April said, automatically.

Jun looked up. “Right.”

They walked out of the office in silence. Bennett gave them both a grin. He was wearing his beard a little thicker, his hair a little longer. His teeth were perfect, April had long noticed that. “Hey girls, I’ve been redoing the entrance display. What do you think? Is it too edgy?”

They flanked him, highly conscious of each other. April tried to somehow hide her lips inside her mouth. She wanted to run to a mirror. Bennett had replaced the display of women in science-fiction with erotica. How-to manuals, neatly stacked and displayed, with titles like “COME TOGETHER” and “SQUEEZE.” The top book, an oversized one promising graphic photography, showcased on the front cover a blonde with a blissful half-orgasmic, half-mysterious smile.

“Oh my,” April said.

“Yeah, we’ve been selling a ton of these, so I asked Josephine if we could just go crazy and make them front and center,” Bennett said. “We were thinking of maybe getting in to the accessories business too, you know? There’s no Good Vibrations or anything like it for two hundred miles. We could fill that niche!”

Fill that niche, that sounded nice, April thought. She stared at the cumming blonde. There was another book on the display that just said “SUCK”. She stared at that, too.

“Looks great,” Jun said, from a very far away place. “Nice job, Bennett.”

“Yeah, nice job,” April said.

Agreeing not to go after Bennett was a mistake.

It was immediately clear to April. For whatever reason, all she wanted to do was take this gentle, soulful man, with his big blue eyes, and suck on his cock.

It was all the more strange to her because it would be her very first blowjob. Intellectually, penises were truly ridiculous. They were strange mushroom things that were wastehole more than half the time. Nothing about sucking on a penis made a girl cum. Nothing. It was totally one-sided. She had a perfectly good vagina, and it featured in exactly 0 of her ever-increasing fantasies about his cock.

What the hell was it? April considered entering therapy. It was ridiculous, this fixation with his dick, this need to nuzzle it, and lick it, and let it linger in her mouth. Sometimes she was working him hard, Bennett on his back, her mouth dipping up and down on the rod. Sometimes she was a receptacle that he was fucking fast or slow. She couldn’t even keep him from coming in her mouth in her own mind. Always, always he unloaded into her mouth. Maybe a little bit onto her face. A few gooey drops. Always it was a huge gush of cum that she would swallow and swallow.

Maybe this was just her being juvenile, lacking confidence. Unsure of herself, of participating in sex as an equal. Relegating herself to a second-tier role. But then why was she so turned on by it? This wasn’t her afraid to imagine Bennett wanting her to cum. Of course a guy like Bennett would want her to cum. This was her wanting to feel the carpet on her knees, salivating over the skin on her tongue.

Her vibrator batteries died. April swore to herself she wouldn’t replace them. That was a wakeup call, her fucking batteries dying from frigging herself so much. She was up to three vibe sessions a day—a wakeup, a pre-work session, and a cooldown after spending a shift with a guy she wasn’t allowed to suck.

April swore at herself and started watching porn.

There was no such thing as feminist blowjob porn, or at least not free versions online. It was all big-lipped blondes she identified with way too much, with their knees together, professionally sucking on dicks the size of flagpoles. At least they were instructive. Most of it seemed to be gag control. April stuck her finger down her throat, and to her surprise, kept it there. And then again, and again, until cramming fingers in her mouth was just part of the orgasm experience.

“This is the last time,” she told herself, fiercely, many times. She hadn’t read an actual book since Bennett had started work. It didn’t distract her enough. Trashy television was the usual style. And makeup tutorials, gobs of them. She went to the mall and returned with two huge shopping bags of gunk, all of which she rigorously started to apply. Most of it was in the skincare, she learned, the art of erasing pores and other signs of humanity and turning into a blank, male-pleasing canvas.

But mostly it was her lips.

One rub with lipstick, how pathetic had she looked? Like a sixteen year old going to prom? No, not even that, sixteen year olds were expert with lip gloss. Multiple layers, intricately worked in, sealed, and properly painted. The first time she had it really right, her lips a big red bow, with shades of pink, April had fallen back with a lengthy groan and started to stroke herself, vibrator unnecessary.

“You ladies busy tonight?” Bennett asked. “You want to hit up the carnival?”

“The WHAT?” Jun said. The bookstore was, for once, not busy. They were doing brisk and steady business, which helped somewhat with having Bennett around. Although now there were lots of boys eyeing her nice candy lips, their girlfriends giving April less friendly looks. “The FUCKING CARNIVAL? Are we tweens again?”

Bennett was taken aback. “Well… yeah? No? Not big on carnivals? What if I called it a street fair? I used to go to them all the time growing up.”

Jun tried to fix him with one of her glares, and as usual, couldn’t quite manage it. “I haven’t been to a carnival since High School. Like, tilt-a-whirls, that kind of thing? With both of us?”

Bennett’s smile drooped. “I guess no?”

Jun glanced over at April. They both stared at each other, frozen. What the hell was this? They had both stuck to their accord. Jun had not said a single word about April’s increasing fascination with lip gloss, concealer, mascara, eyelashes, and every other form of beauty product, despite how they had to be absorbing her entire salary.

For her part, April hadn’t said word one about Jun’s increasingly trashy outfits, which were frankly slutty with just a little bit of saving punk grace. Tartan skirts, big black heels, bustiers or t-shirts, all wrapped up in a leather jacket when it got too sexy, or maybe fingerless gloves. It wasn’t like she could ask Jun to stop fantasizing. They were stuck in an arm’s race neither really wanted, helpless to stop. Bennett had such nice biceps.

And now Bennett was, what, asking them BOTH out? At least this meant—and they had both been too scared to ask—that he probably didn’t have a girlfriend. Or did this mean he saw them both as totally equal friends?

“I mean, there’s a beer garden,” Bennett said. “It’s not kid stuff.”

“SURE!” they both said.

“TWEEN ME UP!” Jun added.

Hours later they stumbled, very drunk, into Bennett’s apartment.

April wasn’t quite as drunk as she was pretending to be, although she was also sincerely and very drunk. Drinking had seemed like a good idea when Jun had emerged from the bathroom with her eyes ringed in blue mascara and her hair up in fucking pigtails. Probably in response to April running out of the store and returning in a little red skirt she had bought in a panic. There was still a tag inside of it that she hadn’t had time to remove, but she had just shaved her legs and knew they looked good.

“That was amazing,” Bennett enthused. “I love carnivals. I even love the carnies. They’re the salt of the damn earth, I don’t care what people say or all the objective facts about them.” He sat on his couch, a girl on either side. They all had their feet up and were drinking.

“I liked the gravitron,” Jun volunteered, her voice more than a little slurred. It had nearly pulled her tits out of her shirt, and she had gotten a great spot right up next to Bennett. Gravity had practically pulled his head into her breasts.

“Water gun for me,” April said. Jun rolled her eyes. April had managed to get her shirt soaked while keeping her makeup dry. The perfect combination, and hard to do.

Bennett’s place was tasteful, classy, very him. Austere but practical furniture with hard edges. Spotlessly, faultlessly clean. A duo of The Atlantic and The Nation on the coffee table. On the walls he had an Obama 2012 poster, his kitchen was stocked with IPAs and a classy and surprisingly pricey set of wines. The girls drank vodka and cranberry. There were mirrors, oddly enough, unusual for a man’s place. Mirrors on the back of the door, a big mirror against one wall, one near the TV that reflected two drunk girls flanking one nice guy.

“That was a lot of fun,” Bennett said. “I’m gonna be honest with you two, it’s been kind of rough to go out and do stuff and have fun in my program. You know. Just cut loose. Hang out with friends.”

Friends, oh boy. April was super excited to be friends. Her pussy was absolutely soaked. She had spent much of the trip wondering, alternatively, what the hell Bennett was up to and how big his dick was.

“Yay for friends,” she said. She was too boozed up to get the sarcasm right.

“You two sober up a bit and I’ll drive you home,” Bennett said. “It’s getting late.” It was 9:30 p.m. Why was it hot that he was such a square? Why was she so attracted to a guy who, bottom line, worked as a book clerk and considered 9:30 to be late night?

April realized, struck, that whatever upbringing Bennett had had, he was the most sheltered and cheerfully naive guy that she had ever met. Like he had grown up adjacent to Sesame Street, and spent his entire adolescence earnestly learning the importance of sharing. The dark black beard and willingness to punch drunk men had thrown her off. Bennett was an innocent. He probably hadn’t even kissed a girl.

So she could be the first.

She managed to incline her head slightly to the left. Jun was asleep. Her legs were splayed wide open. April, suspicious, looked up at the mirror. Her eyes widened.

Jun wasn’t wearing any panties. God damn it! It would be slut shaming to go after her. On the other hand, that slut!

Well, the brazen whore wasn’t going to be the one to pop Bennett’s probable cherry. And now she was drunk and asleep. Liquor gave April confidence.

“I’ll be right back, gotta hit the bathroom,” Bennett said. He pulled off his jacket, gently covered Jun with it. If he had noticed her beaver flashing in the reflection, he didn’t say anything.

This was her chance. It had to be. April counted to five and stumbled after him. This was so wrong, so bad, so pathetic. The plan was dumb, humiliating. She felt moisture trickling down her legs.

“Don’t pee!” she whispered, closing the bathroom door behind her. Bennett, startled, had just undone his belt.

“But—I’ve been—I’ve got—”

“DON’T PEE!” April said, urgently. Her lipstick had to be a mess. She sank onto her knees too soon, and had to waddle towards him. But it was no matter. His cock was out. Bennett’s adorable, wonderful cock. The dick she had devoted so much mental energy to. He stood back, nervous, and gasped when she reached into his boxers. Her nails weren’t painted, which was a usual part of the fantasy. That would never happen again.

It did not disappoint. Bennett’s penis was very long, and very hard. She hadn’t even known if it was circumcised. It was, which was a relief. After all, all her blowjob experience was from videos of cut guys getting sucked.

“April, wait, this isn’t right. You’re drunk,” Bennett put a firm hand on her head. He gently pushed her backwards.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

“I’m not that drunk,” she said, looking up at him. Those eyes. They were dark again. She didn’t want to look at them. She wanted to look at his cock. It was inches from her lips. “I’m sooooo sober. Super duper sober. I’m just… I’m surprising you with a blowjob is all.”

“Yeah, I don’t think you can consent, to be honest,” Bennett said. April was rigid. How was this possible? Never in a million cums had she imagined that Bennett might say no. His dick was huge, red, throbbing. It smelled good. “Maybe you should go get some sleep, you’ll probably laugh this off in the morning.”

“Noooooo,” April whined. How had the world come to this. “Bennett… come on… I am absolutely fucking -utley yes please wanting to do this come ON.” she tugged on his cock. It was so hot. She could already taste it in her mouth.

Bennett paused. He seemed to be pondering. “Then I want a clear and emphatic yes from you, slut,” he said.

“Yes!” April nearly shouted. She practically lunged for him.

“More than that.” Bennett said. “I don’t want to say beg… but you should beg just a little.”

“Yes… yes what? Yes yes yes!”

“Yes, you want to suck my dick,” Bennett prompted. His eyes shone at her. The bathroom was crowded. The light overhead made his face dark, hard to see. But she could see his eyes. Dark ees.

“Yes, I want to suck your dick,” she recited.

“I want to suck your dick and make you cum,” Bennett said.

“Bennett, PLEASE!”

He made her wait a few more seconds. She could feel lubrication dripping between her thighs.

“Sir,” he said.

What? But she was too far gone, and the word was inexplicably hot. Her mouth was full of spit.

“Sir! Let me suck you sir!”

He released her hair. April nearly dove onto his dick. It was too fast, her teeth nearly scraped the head, and she had to slow down. This wasn’t about her, this was about him. That’s what a good cocksucker did. And April so desperately wanted to be a good slutty cocksucker, so desperately wanted to do this correctly. It was a huge relief when Bennett took charge right away, started to thrust into her mouth. Then all she had to do was set her head, keep her mouth a perfect O, and suck. It was a lot of meat, a lot of dick. The salt of his precum swished around her mouth. It tasted fantastic, not at all the slimy drizzle she had resigned herself to. She wanted more.

“Look at me, April,” Bennett said. When she didn’t immediately comply, worried about changing angles, he pulled her head upwards. His dick flashed, wet, in and out of her mouth. His eyes burned at her. She was going to cum soon, impossibly. Bodies didn’t work that way. She wasn’t getting herself off, she was a receptacle for him. That didn’t make sense.

“I’m gonna cum. I’m not going to cum in your mouth, okay? I’ll cum on your face. You’re going to want to close your eyes. Don’t. Look at me. I won’t hit your eyes. I promise.”

Okay. She couldn’t exactly nod, but he seemed satisfied. Bennett pulled out, held his cock fondly, and started to climax all over her. Thick spurts that landed all over her face, her cheeks, her chin. So much cum. She was cumming. Hard, so hard. Waves of red pleasure burning her….

April passed out.

She awoke much later, bleary, confused. Her head hurt. It wasn’t clear where she was or what was going on. Her face was wet, and when she stuck her tongue out, there was a crackly residue on it. Salty and a little sweet. Delicious.

April got to her feet. She was… in a bathroom? Bennett’s bathroom. Right. Everything was wavy, dreamlike, the world tilting around her. She had never felt so high, so intoxicated, and just opening the doorknob was a true struggle. The hallway beyond it was gauzy and wet. It was hard to keep her eyes open. They were gummy with Bennett’s jizz.

Someone was screaming. April, puzzled, made her way to a different part of the apartment. The door was open. Inside, on a nicely appointed bed, Jun was fully naked and bouncing up and down on Bennett. Her tits bounced. She had a really nice ass. Bennett had both hands on her hips and was controlling her, sliding her up and down his rod. “You’re a slut,” he whispered, into her ear. “Just a helplessly horny little fuck slut.”

He noticed her standing there, shocked. Those black eyes fixed on her. “Go to bed, April,” he told her. Jun was way too gone to notice anything. She was choking on her own spit, trying to scream.

April nodded, grateful for the direction. Right, go to bed, that made sense. This was certainly a dream. She had fallen asleep, drunk, after the carnival. She went back to the couch, made herself snuggly underneath a Bennett-scented jacket, and went right to bed.

A few days later April sat on her couch, with a large mug of coffee, extremely unnerved.

Her memories of her night at Bennett’s were hazy at best. There were things that had to be dreams—her wandering in a fog, for example, and coming up on a Jun fuckfest.

But her recall of chasing after Bennett, kneeling in front of him, and essentially demanding to blow him was way too clear to be a figment of her overheated imagination. That had definitely happened. She had woken up the next morning sticky and fragrant, her face and hair bathed in residue. Luckily she had gotten up before Jun or Bennett, her neck stiff from sleeping sitting up on a couch. Jun was where she had fallen asleep before, dozing underneath Bennett’s big jacket. She herself had a thick woolen blanket on top of her. April had rinsed her face in a hurry and hustled out. And called in sick the next two days at work.

What the HELL was wrong with her?

The whole thing smacked of some sort of unknown neuroticism or pathology working its way out. An unrecognized strain of subservience or desire to please or poor self-image expressing itself through dick sucking. And that made no sense. She had been a stellar student, a model political activist, a sincere and thoughtful young woman.

True, she hadn’t ever fallen hard for a guy, but it just had never felt like a strong priority. Certainly she had never felt an overpowering need to suck a man’s sperm out of him, to beg him to let her blow him, to stick a really big dick in her mouth while she sucked away.

It was weird, was what it was. And if sir—if BENNETT—had that strong of an effect on her, than Bennett needed to go. She was just not the type of girl who begged men not to piss so they could stick their dicks in her mouth. She was not the kind of girl who couldn’t leave the house without a half-hour minimum on makeup.

She just wasn’t. She wasn’t!

Maybe she was.

April had spent the past two days in a self-imposed detox, and it was incredibly hard. No makeup, not even a shower. Not a single vibrator session. She had sat down and forced herself to read Shakespeare, skipping over any parts that hinted of sex.

She really needed something warm in her mouth. April had thought about a pacifier, and it had gotten her really wet. Something was very wrong with her.

There was a knock on the door.

She was unsurprised when it was Bennett. He had been texting her, increasingly concerned, for two days.

“Can I come in?” he said, eyeing her. Those eyes passed over her boring grey sweater, her pajama pants, her gross hair. Her unadorned lips, pale pink nothings. “I was worried about you.”

She could hardly say no to Bennett.

He stepped in, stood at the entryway. It was the only clean patch. The rest of her apartment was scattered clothes, Sephora bags, pried-open plastic packaging of various gels and creams and other things. Clothing purchases she didn’t really remember making, things way too skimpy and tight. Takeout boxes scattered on the kitchen counter. And her, sad little April.

‘You alright?” he said.

April wanted to cry.

“Listen,” Bennett said. “I came over to apologize. What happened—between us. It wasn’t right. It was never something I should’ve talked you into. “

“Talked me! Bennett, come on. I..”

Bennett shook his head hard. He was back in his big black coat, last seen draped over Jun. “No. No, not at all. It was my apartment, you were drunk, we’re coworkers, those factors just don’t go away. I put you in a position where the only way you could talk to me about how you felt was by sucking my dick. And I’m sorry for that. Obviously it was difficult for you.”

“Y-yeah,” April said, uncertain.

He smiled. Those eyes. So blue. No, black. Why couldn’t she decide? “April, I’m a guy. I know how difficult it can be when the hormones are floating around. We can deal with them like mature adults. Ultimately it was just one little spurt, right? We were drunk and got carried away. We can still be friends.”

“I—” she kept almost calling him sir. She was so nothing, so dull, so unattractive. “Can I go get changed? I really want to get changed.”

“Sure,” he said. “Of course.”

When she emerged, he had cleaned the entirety of her apartment. Multiple boxes consolidated into plastic bags and tossed into the trash. Floor was swept, the couch rearranged with a tasteful blanket she had forgotten about draped over it. And Bennett was making dinner.

“What could you possibly be cooking?” she asked. It smelled great.

“Fried rice,”

“I had rice?”

“I mean… yes? I hope that’s what this is. It LOOKED like rice. And various odds and ends.”

April checked it. Maybe the previous owners had it? She looked around. “What happened to—”

“The clothes on the ground? I threw them out.”

He had—“I couldn’t let you wear them,” he said, shaking his head. “Depression pants, depression sweaters. Why did you even have a t-shirt that read THE LIGHT INSIDE IS DEAD BUT I STILL WORK?”

“It’s a… joke.” she said, feebly. But he made a fair point. April had dressed in black yoga pants, a loose halter top, and had felt much better. Especially with the lipstick back on. She was starving.

“Uh-HUH. And I cleaned your bathroom.”

“There’s..” so he had seen three months worth of used pads. April was ready to die.

“That’s the past. No need to speak of it,” he said. Dinner was superb. They talked about movies. “April, look,” he said, looking hard at her, once they were done. She concentrated on looking at the mystery rice. “I get it. It’s a big thrill to dress a little sexy, to flirt, wear makeup, all of that. I get horny too. It’s fun to be horny and wet. It feels good. We’re young, we should be having fun.”

He was so hard to argue with. Her head swam. She wasn’t that type of girl! That type of girl was a patriarchial myth! “Yeah,” April heard herself say.

“I just don’t want it to hurt my friendship with you. With Jun,” he said. “Right?”

“Crystal clear,” she said.

“Crystal, what?”

“Crystal clear... sir,” April said, in a very small voice. Bennett nodded, satisfied.

“So yeah, if you really need something from me, if you want to suck me off that bad, if you’re really that horny and hot, we can do it, consensually, as friends,” he said. “But that’s all it is, okay?”

Was he giving her permission to blow him? She wanted to protest, but part of her was so, so excited. And it made sense, right? This, this was a perfect solution he was offering her. Consensual, mutually-agreeable access to a body part that she apparently needed. No need for emotional hangups or freakouts regarding her need to suck dick. Sucking a little cock was like exercising, when you thought of it from his perspective. Giving her jaw a little workout. She was a hot young thing and naturally needed to suck a little dick.

“Sure, sure,” she said, extremely relieved.

“Great,” he said. “Whew! Man! Here, I got you something. For our friendship.”

He pulled out a dark black box. Inside was a black velvet choker.

“A friendship choker,” she said, flatly. Part of her wanted to scream that this was wrong, terrible, bad. But she was just so relieved to have a way forwards. Another part of her wanted to wear the choker right away.

“Here,” he said, helping her with it. He closed it around her neck. “Now, want to watch a movie?”

Of course she was blowing him right away.

It was nice. Very nice, very comfortable. Two young kids watching Netflix and pleasuring each other, or, at any rate, her pleasuring him. Practically Americana, in this day and age. April snuggled up against Bennett for the first time, and gloried in it. So this was just going to be some sort of friends with benefits thing, with a great and honest guy, where she could indulge an oral fixation that would turn out to be an amusing character trait. Hell, she was learning a skill, always a valuable thing.

He chuckled as she fiddled with his fly, and then arched his hips as she pulled his jeans down.

“Wait,” he said, just before she started, her hands already cupping his cock. She sucked in between her teeth, exasperated.

“Please,” she said.

“Please?”

“Pretty fucking please let me suck your cock, SIR!”

He laughed and nodded.

April felt a warm glow between her hips. Right, the whole ‘cum from sucking’ thing. That was still weird, but on the other hand, being highly orgasmic was hardly something a feminist could complain about. Wasn’t it supposed to be a benefit of really understanding, and accepting, your own body?

These sort of thoughts went away when his dick sprang out. She had the luxury to really admire it, outside of the hurried need of his bathroom. It was towering, rigid, and had lots of thick veins that she immediately memorized. It was pleasingly musky, with a tang of something sweet she couldn’t quite identify.

Best of all was having the chance to learn how best to suck it. Bennett was so amazingly accommodating. He let her try sucking it up and down, vacuum cleaner style, just tongue it with her eyes closed, nuzzle the head softly, and finally, he jackhammered her brains out before finishing, once again, all over her face. The absolute doll even put her on the couch and wiped her cummy face off when the force of her own orgasm made her topple over with a dumb smile on her face.

“That was nice, my little tart,” he said, when the movie was done. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow? You’re feeling better?”

“Yeahhhhhh,” she said, dazed. God, she felt so good, so girly. She giggled. Why had she been so concerned? All she needed to do to feel better was to suck on a tube of goo. And it didn’t even have any calories.

“Good. Wear the choker. See ya,” and he was gone.

She did.

It was easily the best week of April’s life. She got to suck off Bennett twice.

Both times left her profoundly stoned, post-orgasmic and useless. A wet lump of girl, drenched on all sides, a wad of cum all over her. It took her a good half-hour before she could talk in complete sentences.

True, it wasn’t exactly the most edifying sexual encounter, on a bunch of different levels. The first time over, Bennett cooked dinner and they watched TV for three minutes before April started pulling at his fly. That at least had a semblance of a relationship, even if she was probably tugging at his dick within a half-hour of him walking through the door. They had, at least, talked briefly about politics. He was passionate about them, and it made her whole body glow with want.

The second time was much more... mercenary. Bennett texted that he had a few minutes, did she want him to come over? April examined the texts the next day.

B:

hey I’m nearby.

B:

i can stop in?

B:

for like 5 minutes

B:

nevermind

B:

forget I asked.

T:

sure

T:

no come over

T:

are you there

B:

yeah you sure?

T:

yes

B:

so you want me to come over just so you can blow me

April read that line, over and over. And the next one. Sent seconds later

T:

yes

B:

yes, what?

T:

yes, sir.

B:

:)

It had been even more brief than that suggested. Bennett had walked in, with a package under his arm, and found her kneeling right in front of the door. She had been there for five minutes, door unlocked, waiting for him on her knees, stroking her choker anxiously. April only took it off in the shower, and briefly. He had stood in the entryway, back to the door. She had blown him, and he had left while she shivered and gasped on the floor. He had maybe gone five steps into her apartment, they hadn’t exchanged a single word.

There was one other incident. In retrospect it was both a bit embarrassing and a bit insignificant. Worried and insecure, April had insisted on having Bennett actually fuck her, just for a change of pace.

“You sure?” he had asked, as usual. Sweetheart that he was, Bennett had even pulled his cock out and rubbed it against her lips, just to check on her resolve. It was hugely tempting, and she had given him a few licks just to get the taste in her mouth.

But then they had gone through with it, having standard, boring sex. It had felt okay. Just sex. Bennett was hot, and had worked hard to make her feel good, but it was mostly just basic fucking. April had faked a little orgasm just so he wouldn’t feel bad. Afterwards they had sat up in her bed and shared a relieved little laugh that they had gotten it over with, and April had resolved never to interrupt the blowjob parade again.

There was one more little thing that bothered her.

She had this persistent, unresolvable worry that Jun was also getting Bennett’s cock. April kept having flashes of her friend bouncing up and down on Bennett’s dick, her big tits swinging, her ass humping his shining wet dick. Nonsense, she was sure—and of course she herself was having pretty filthy dreams about Bennett’s dick, like, all the time. But.. still.

It was just… Jun seemed so… HAPPY… at work. Cheerful, pleasant, humming. She had an excellent energy and spirit that made April extremely worried that she was getting regularly dicked by their mutual employee. It was hard to imagine anything but Bennett’s penis making her that joyous.

It wasn’t only that. Jun kept dressing up. She lived to show skin. All sorts of outfits. Jean shorts, jean skirts. Dresses, even, red and periwinkle blue that were wrapped tight around her body. Halter tops with cleavage spilling out over the top. Pink shirts! They were both in pink on one uncomfortable Wednesday, business humming, April in a pink blouse that matched her lipstick and Jun in a white and pink v-neck matched with a pink bandana-scarf thing. Bennett hadn’t texted her the night before, and Jun’s good mood was a rasp.

It was a good thing that he came over for a soothing, calming blowjob later that day.

Worst of all, Jun was wearing a bracelet. A new bracelet. A silver and gold bracelet. Every single day. April eyed it, and Jun eyed her choker, and neither of them said very much to each other.

And, well, there was still one other thing. It was silly, but sometimes April would sit in front of a mirror and notice that she had some sperm still caked on her. Forehead, or near her ears, or a bit of it in her hair. And part of her would say something like “this is crazy. You’re a modern and independent young woman. You’re not some guy’s personal suck toy. You’ve got to stop this.”

But then she’d lick the residue, and it would taste like Bennett, and those thoughts would go away.

“Two things,” Josephine said. She looked relaxed. Their boss wore big gold earrings and a striped shirt that looked both comfortable and tight. She had taken to wearing tights every time they saw her.

The three employees all sat together with the boss. April wore her choker, her hair carefully brushed into waves, and a grey mini that paired very well with her little blue top. She had resolved last night to put her breasts more on display during her blowies. Bennett deserved to look, and the overall “look” of her sucking his dick was an important part of the experience. She was getting better at applying mascara, and had deep blue accents over her eyes. Jun wore a black shirt with fishnet stockings, dipping back into her sexy-punk genre.

“First, Bennett has agreed to be assistant manager,” Josephine said. “

Oh. April opened her mouth to say something, closed it. She had spent a lot of time getting her lipstick right and hated to ruin it by talking unnecessarily. It didn’t seem worthwhile to say something like, he’s only been here, what, five weeks?

“I know he hasn’t been here very long, but I appreciate his innovations and I cannot argue with the sales. Any issues with that?”

None. April tried to dredge some up but—none.

“Second, we’re having Cecilia Kittens in to speak in a few days.”

The name sounded familiar. Josephine reached over and picked out the book with the semi-orgasmic blonde on the cover. “SQUEEZE,” she said. “We’ve sold nearly a hundred copies. It’ll be a late night event. I need all of you here to work. Alright?”

“Of course,” Bennett said. He spoke for all of them.

It didn’t bother April that Cecilia Kittens was very clearly a porn star. She had long ago resolved to be supportive of sex workers. They worked in a dangerous area, fully exposed to the worst that men could give, and without any legal protections. She believed that in earnest.

It did throw her a little that Cecilia Kittens was so MUCH a porn star. Practically cartoonish, her balloon tits in a calico print halter-dress that met somewhere around her navel. She had two very large olive-colored tits that she confidently strode into Georgia’s with. No bra. And a—April did a covert walkaround—a big thick ass, yes. There it was. She was perched on chunky beige heels and swirled a faux-gold purse on a string.

It DID bother her that she knew Bennett.

“Benny!” she shrieked, as soon as she caught sight of him. “Benny, Benny, Benny!” She wrapped him in a huge booby-bobbling hug. “Oh my goodness!”

“Bennett,” he said, weakly. “It’s Bennett.”

“Oh of course!” April watched her lips. They were magnificent. Clearly enhanced, they still had a natural bow, and were glossy enough to reflect the track lighting. “College! You’re at college and you’re Bennett now, of course. That’s so great!”

Bennett looked adorably sheepish. He had ditched his standard coat and jeans look for a very sharp dark grey suit with a short purple tie, cream-colored shirt. It was very trendy, very expensive, and April had already resolved to slowly strip it off him.

“This is Cecilia,” he said, turning to her. “We’ve been—”

“I knew this man when he was a boy! Oh, his Dad and I—” she stopped. Bennett had given her a sharp look. His eyes matched his suit. “Oopsie-doopsy. Are you two still fighting?”

“It’s good to see you, Aunty Cecilia,” Bennett relented. April tried to wrap her head around Aunty. Aunts just didn’t have breasts like that.

“Oh, not real Aunty,” Cecilia said, laughing. She had her hands on Bennett again. “How many Aunties do you have, big boy? Ten hundred million? Your father—”

“And this is Jun,” Jun wore a black and green dress that was very demure below the waist, and two thin spaghetti straps on top of it. She didn’t have anything on Cecilia’s boobs, but had done her best with a dark black bra that wasn’t quite hidden. It looked painful. “Cecilia, I love your work,” she said, very sincerely.

“Oh my gosh a fan! And a girl fan!” Cecilia squealed. Jun got a hug. Four boobs smacked together. “Which movie? Or just a general fan, like of the instagram stuff. That’s fine! I’m all social media-y now! I’m very hash-taggy!”

“Caught in Public,” Jun confessed. ‘I.. I bought it.”

April was taken aback. This was a level of feminism she hadn’t dreamed of, just casually discussing porn watching habits.

“1? Or 2? Or… I mean… there’s like… 40 of them,” Cecilia said. She stared at her hands, worried about counting. “Oh my gosh. I hope you remember.”

“The library,” Jun said. She gave Bennett the side-eye.

“Yeah, that doesn’t narrow it down, sweetie. You know those are all real right! If I can’t find a guy to fuck in public I should just lie down and let an elephant walk on me and I die. Oh fuck it’s time!”

It was the most arousing speech that April had ever heard.

She wasn’t alone in that—the audience was a bunch of co-eds, always somewhat randy, but at least usually able to hide it. And at least half the crowd was the usual campus feminist crowd of girls with tattoos on their upper arms, ripped jeans. A few Bennett-y guys.

And yet they were all biting lips, stroking upper legs, nervously checking the time, cheeks flushed. A girl with a shaved head took a boy’s hand and stuffed it down the back of her pants.

“I mean I know that there’s more in life than fucking,” Cecilia declared, from the podium. “I get that.” her boobs swung with each pronouncement. “There’s stuff like driving. And food. And that’s all fine. All I know is that there is exactly one thing that is a natural drug, that makes our brains completely flip their shit and spaz out, that makes us feel super duper good, and that is sex! S-E-X! You don’t get a big hit of happy chemicals when you finish reading fucking Shakespeare books! You don’t come! You come when a big dick or whatever is hitting that spot right there! That is the ONLY thing that makes you cum!”

There was some spontaneous applause. The girls in the crowd all had their mouths and eyes open wide.

“Yeah! You know what makes you cum!” Cecilia paused to drink some water. She even tongued the bottle. April watched with her mouth open. It was so, so hot in the room.

“But it’s tough out there for girls,” Cecilia whispered. “It’s tough. It is a land of bullshit. Girls don’t feel like they can cum, they feel guilty over all sorts of stupid shit, they look at their titties and their asses and their pussies and their lips in the mirror and they feel BAD!” Cecilia was legitimately upset. “What the fuck is up with that! Every part of a girl is basically sexy and they feel bad. They feel bad! Like all of me is hot. ALL of me. Even my feet to like, certain dudes. Guys are hot too but like, no one gives a shit about a guy’s thighs! Or lips!”

April oozed onto her seat near the register. Josephine was in the back, watching, rapt. She wore hoop earrings once again. Jun and Bennett were—they were gone.

“So that’s my goal. Girls should be having constant mind-blowing sex. Orgasms all the time. And should feel totally confident that even if they were CHOPPED UP into EVERY BODY PART, each and every one of those body parts would be extremely sexy. I will take questions now.”

The audience let out a collective hot breath. Bennett, where was Bennett? She had to find and suck Bennett. It was—April felt strange. They weren’t in the office. The bathroom was—locked? But that wasn’t right. This was a big event. She had a key of course. Her lips felt so warm.

She unlocked the door.

Inside, Bennett had Jun up against the wall and was vigorously fucking the shit out of her.

Even as her life shattered April had to appreciate just what a hot fuck it was. First of all, pinning a girl against a wall, especially a fairly big girl like Jun, took a lot of upper body strength and was impressive just for that reason. Bennett had to pick her up, steady her to put his cock in, and then hold her there while she bucked and screamed, all while steadily putting the wood to her. Second of all, fucking in a bathroom at their place of employment while an entire crowd was outside was both risky and sexy. Finally, Jun had never looked sexier. She had her legs wrapped around Bennett, her dress a wad around her waist, holding on to his neck while he thrusted. Her big ass swung back and forth. Both cheeks were flushed bright pink, and she was whimpering while he fucked her.

“Oh, oh fuck, oh FUCK,” Jun said, seeing April come in. April slumped against the back of the bathroom door. Of course.

In the back of her head she had known Jun was getting fucked on the regular. The vague dream she had remembered, that had to have been real. She’d sucked off Bennett the same night. No wonder they were both walking around work with big dopey smiles in a perpetual high. They were both getting it from Bennett on the regular.

“Shit,” Bennett swore, craning his neck to see her. He didn’t stop. “April. Stay there. FUCK!” He kept trying to look her in the eye, with that solemn and intense expression. But it was hard to do that while fucking a girl in the opposite direction. April slowly slid down the door until she was on the ground. It figured. The first good guy and he was fucking her work friend on the sly. Or was she the one fucking on the sly?

That also explained the delicious but strange sweet tang she had detected while swirling her tongue over Bennett’s dick. Well, she had gotten a mouth full of Jun. She had been delicious, the whore.

“Ah, ahhhh hell,” they were both fucking wildly, savagely, totally undeterred by April showing up. It was so hot, so sad. April’s mouth watered. Bennett’s cock was just that much hotter pistoning out of Jun, and Jun that much sexier with her mouth wide open, drool spattering out of it. Her eyes were half-rolled up. April certainly knew the feeling. They both came. All that wonderful Bennett cum, wasted in Jun. He came hard inside of her, slamming her into the bathroom tile. Jun shrieked.

There was a knock on the door. “I know people are fucking in there but Cecilia really has to pee!” said a very blonde voice.

“I’m sorry,” Bennett had said. And then he had gone to Josephine and resigned.

And that was it for Bennett. He had walked out that same night and not come back.

Jun and April hadn’t talked about the incident. What was there to say? They had both broken promises to each other. April certainly didn’t blame her for wanting to fuck Bennett. That was the most understandable thing in the world. If Bennett had grabbed her shoulder and led her to the bathroom April would’ve gratefully gotten on to her knees, Jun be damned.

It was a hard week of detox. It didn’t help that there were little reminders of Bennett everywhere, not least in the disappointed co-eds who kept stopping by the store window. April hadn’t really picked up on the growing Bennett Fan Club, but it showed up right away in sales. There were heavy boxes she had to move nearly book by book. Men that weren’t Bennett walked by in thick coats, men that weren’t Bennett with black neatly shaved goatees. There were men that weren’t Bennett in the pornos April watched at night, buzzing herself dolefully, her mouth empty.

She missed him, she missed sucking on him. She missed putting on an acre of lipstick and other makeup that probably cost her a hundred dollars and seeing if he’d notice, she definitely missed his cum on her face. Even her lips seemed deflated, humbled.

Pre-breakup purchases kept showing up at her door. A super sexy pair of heels she had wanted to teeter in, to fall to her knees in. A lacy pink corset. A black set of panties and matching bra. Her first latex dress, specially chosen because it would wipe clean. She put them aside.

April couldn’t quite bring herself to take off the choker.

Finally Jun broke the cold war.

“Are you mad at me?” she said. She’d reverted to t-shirts. The store was empty. It was like it was a month ago, except April had learned about blowjobs since then.

“No,” April said. “I mean, how can I be?” It occurred to her, belatedly, that Jun had no idea she had sucked off Bennett for weeks. “I was involved with him too.” Involved, that was a good word for it. Dignified. Not a hint of chugging sperm.

“Oh,” Jun said. She digested that. “I mean, I figured that. I said he could have me whenever he wanted and he said, okay, three days a week it is. So you were days four through seven.”

“Four through six,” April said. “I guess even Bennett needs a rest day.” Or a third girl, she had to wonder.

“Are you mad at Bennett?” Jun said.

“Yessssssssssssssss no,” April said. She sighed, long and hard. That was the worst part. She wasn’t mad at Bennett. She had really tried to be mad at him. He had done them both wrong. Unquestionably he was at fault.

And yet… it was so easy to come up with reasons that lovely naive Bennett wasn’t to blame.

“Yeah, me neither,” Jun said. “I think he was too inexperienced to know better. I know I practically attacked him. Just pulled my legs around him and told him to thrust. I don’t know what else a man could do.”

“Exactly! Exactly,” April rushed in, gratefully. There it was, there was the justification. Bennett was a guy! Men were basically animals in perpetual rut. Two sexually voracious females had gotten into him and he had had no chance but to fuck each other them repeatedly. “He didn’t have a choice! He had to get involved. And you know how he hates to disappoint. Hates it!”

“He was just trying to help,” Jun mused. She picked at her hair. It was lank, greasy. “We needed something. He knew I needed a man, so he helped. That’s what he does. Like when he picked up those boxes. He picked us up. I’m his box.

“He just wanted us to cum,” April said. This was so unexpectedly moving. My god, she had been so wrong. Bennett had been doing them a favor. “And he HAD to fuck both of us. You know how passionate he is about equality. He did us both equally! One orgasm for one orgasm. It was progressive!”

They looked at each other, stricken. What the hell had they done? All Bennett had ever done was give them both extremely enjoyable orgasms from the most attentive lover of all time, and they had run him off on the grounds that he was too good at servicing multiple sexually voracious women.

“Do you ever feel… a little weird around him?” Jun said.

April didn’t say anything. “A little,” she said, cautious.

“He looks at you sometimes and it’s like... “ she trailed off.

“Yeah..” they both looked off. April fixated her gaze on Cecilia’s book, still selling well. They had done amazing business that night, even with half the audience rushing off to presumably fuck each other. Cecilia herself had left in a crowd of five or six people, all of them jostling for position, hands all over her, giggling furiously. Her book had a section on fellatio that was very down to earth, very understandable. April disliked the type of advice that insisted on attacking the balls and getting them involved. Sure, that was fine, but Cecilia understood that the true magic of blowjobs was the visual. There was nothing purer, more submissive, than a girl sucking a boy’s dick. Bennett’s dick.

She realized that she was drooling when a little bit of spit dripped onto her hand. April’s other hand had crept between her legs. She retrieved it. Felt foggy, weird. Jun was also still just staring off into the distance, her eyes cloudy. How long had they been staring at nothing?

“Anyways,” April said, to break the trance. Where had they been at in the conversation?

“Look, lets just get Bennett back,” Jun said, abruptly. “We’re modern girls. We can divide him up. We already were.”

“Yes! Okay. We can do this,” April said. Oh, god, yes, yes!

“Three days for me, three for you.”

“Or whatever Bennett wants,” that went without saying.

“R-right,” Jun said. “Open relationship. Modern consent. Three friends with benefits. Mutuality et cetera. We communicate with each other. We’re open about our needs and wants. There you go.”

“Perfect!” April said. This was good. She was proving herself a modern woman who had sophisticated relationships. And more Bennett in her mouth yum yum yum. She could just see his eyes, looking down at her, while she nuzzled and—

“April?” Jun said, gently.

“Huh?”

“You were getting spacey again. Lets talk to Josephine about getting him back.”

“We’re willing to share,” Jun told Bennett. That wasn’t what they had agreed to say. Jun and April had talked very carefully and very intently about what exactly this relationship was going to mean. It was all going to be framed in terms of polyamory, open relationships, that sort of thing. It wasn’t just a timeshare in Bennett’s cock. And yet, that’s what it had quickly devolved into.

The three of them walked along the river. That had been Bennett’s idea. Public, nonhorny, adult. Mature.

Jun hadn’t really gone with the theme, dressing in dark black boots that were totally inappropriate for walking long distances. A faux-suede miniskirt plus a dark black sweater. It would look great at 5 p.m. in Brooklyn, April supposed. But then, she herself was in tight white jeans with a cold-shoulder top. Two freezing cold girls, figuring out the fuck rota.

“I mean, that’s more than I deserve,” Bennett said, somber. “I betrayed two trusts. I should’ve picked one of you. The whole thing with the chokers, the bracelets, that was me being double-faced. Purely duplicitous.”

April hadn’t mentioned the choker, and Jun hadn’t mentioned the bracelet. So much for communication, April thought. She rubbed at it. It wasn’t going to come off.

“It’s not your fault,” Jun said. She rubbed his back, let her hand slip down to his ass. Damned horny girl. April chastised herself. This had to work. They were partners in the Bennett industry. “We both asked for it, you gave it. That’s fair. The only mistake was keeping it secret. So now we’re in the open.”

“Well, there’s another problem,” Bennett said. He stopped, folded his arms, looked at them gravely. “I’m just one guy.”

“Right,” April said. “We know. That’s why the share.”

“No, I mean, you girls… this is hard for a guy to admit,” he had taken his beard down to the nubbins while unemployed. “You’re a handful. I was getting drained. Spent. It was hard for me to… perform.”

“Oh,” April said, very slowly. It occurred to her that she didn’t know much about boy biology. Couldn’t they cum all day?

“April, that’s why I just stopped in for a quickie that one time, and Jun, that’s why I fucked you in my car. I just… it’s difficult. I mean, if you get me turned on enough…”

He trailed off.

“So this is about efficiency,” Jun said, always problem solving. “You need to come more quickly. We need to get you off more quickly.”

“Or I need to be harder,” Bennett said, apologetically. He looked hard at both of them. The girls tried and failed to look down in time. Dark black eyes, blue eyes, black eyes. “I need to be hard. Very hard. You girls need to be amazingly sexy. I mean… well, you know what you are.”

“What?” Jun demanded.

He backed away. “I guess this is a bad idea.”

“What do you mean?” April said.

“Well… sluts. Right? Can we reclaim that word?” Bennett said. “You girls are pretty slutty. Aren’t you? Wet almost all the time? Eager for it? Dressing to please, eager to cum?”

Now, there was a taboo word. Slut. It echoed in April’s ears. Slut, horny fuck-happy slut. The type of girl that—no, it wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her. To be a slut was to be bad. But that was old thinking, right? To be a slut was… to be in control. To seek pleasure, not to fear it. To treat her body and its capacity for pleasure as a joy, rather than a burden. She could be a slut. She could be Bennett’s accessible little slut.

“I mean, if you girls aren’t comfortable with that…” he said.

“No! No,” April said. She nodded her head, eagerly. His eyes bounced in her head. Sexier wasn’t hard. Sexier was no problem. “We can do that.”

Sexy. She had to be a sexy slut for Bennett. She had to be fucking hot, super cute, eye-turning mouth-fuckable for Bennett. Poor drained Bennett, his vital fluids flushed by two insatiablly sexually active girls.

April took a critical look in the mirror. It wasn’t enough. She’d been dorking around with makeup like a little girl and wearing some cute tops. Relying on a young body and her own mouth to get by, completely ignoring her flat ass and making no effort at all with her tits. That was done. She’d start jogging the next morning, look into bodyweight exercises. She had to get real about her hair—no more ponytails and casual shoulder-length whatever.

Luckily she had some new outfits. April took a test drive down to the supermarket in a green minidress. Her arms had a humiliating tan line, and the choker didn’t really match, not that April gave any thought to taking it off. She strode slowly down aisles, putting one foot in front of the other in three-inch heels. The hem of the dress hit far above her thighs. Her pussy was slick. Her face had been arranged and painted, an hour’s worth of work in the morning, a demure brownish-red lipstick. Boys stopped and stared, eyebrows went up. It was very hot. April had just meant it as a test, but the eyes on her, their obvious erections, their bulging hardons with yummy cum for her… she walked hard out of the store and jilled off in the car, gasping.

Slut, whore, she had spent a morning looking into the concepts. A whole world of femininity was there, one she had denied herself. Past time to get over herself. Jacking off in a parking lot was a good start. Her phone buzzed while she was still cumming.

B:

I’m coming over.

T:

Yes, sir.

She was ten minutes away from her place. April drove wildly, forgetting to remove her heels, blowing red lights. She was in the apartment just a minute before Bennett rung the bell. His face lit up when she swung it open.

“You look great,” he said, stepping in.

“Yeah? What do you think?”

Bennett did a slow walk around. April berated herself—she should’ve been on her knees! But then his hand was on her ass, fondling it. “I haven’t seen enough of this,” he told her. “Your ass. I don’t want it hidden.”

“You’ll see more,” she promised. Relief flooded her. Her ass, no problem. She could easily just wear shorter skirts. If it had been her tits she would’ve worried.

“Hold on. Panties? You’re wearing panties?”

“I was—” she flushed. It wasn’t like they ever fucked. What did he care?

“Hand ’em over. You think Jun is wearing panties?”

“Jun isn’t—I don’t... “ Bennett shook his head, annoyed. “April, we talked about this. And did you shave down there?”

He examined her with his fingers, casually hiking up the dress. April hoped she’d at least get some points for being wet. And she was very, very wet.

“C’mon, April. It’s a forest mixed with a jungle. It’s not hard to shave.”

“Bennett, come on,” she pleaded. This was too much. She was his fuck toy, not his fuck doll. “We don’t even fuck. Why do you care?”

“Jun cares,” Bennett said simply, shrugging. “I thought you cared too. Look, I went way out of my way to come over here.” He relented. “I’m sorry. I’m being too harsh. You look sexy as hell, that’s the truth. Just amazingly fuckable, slut.”

Oh, thank god. Relief flooded her.

“Thank you, sir,” April said. She got onto her knees, smiled. He fished out his cock.

It had been weeks. Just way too long. Not for the first time April felt a twinge of discomfort. Why had she just bust out the ‘sir?’ Why was she simply sinking onto her knees? Especially right after being ordered to shave her slit. Why was she so achingly wet, her mouth watering with the anticipation? Why did each repetition of “slut” make her spasm and gasp?

And then he was in her mouth, thrusting hard right from the get-go, and, as usual, the hesitation melted away. He just tasted so good, so perfect. She could forgive a little dominance-play from a man. It was in their blood. And he did have two girls to manage. He had to show them who was in control.

Bennett was.

It was getting hard to work properly. And it wasn’t like she had a very demanding job. Sit at a cash register, swipe cards, some light inventory, maybe chat casually about upcoming releases or make some kind of recommendation. She had to know course catalogs. That was it. But April was bored, listless, uncaring. April told herself she was just displeased with the speedy evolution of Georgia’s. It had quickly gone from a dusty shop where perhaps one woman in a month made a voyage of self-discovery, to the place where co-eds learned how to do anal. They had in a steady stream of giggling young girls and their randy boyfriends, these days. She still had no clue how. It wasn’t like they advertised.

It was just so much more fun to fool around the internet, look at cute outfits, and watch makeup tutorials.

“Do you have Left Hand anywhere?” a towering brunette asked. April looked at her dully. “Huh?” she said. What the hell was she talking about? She guiltily closed a link to an hour-long exploration on glitterizing different parts of the female body.

“Left Hand?” the girl said, increasingly exasperated. “Le Guin? Who died? Very recently? Feminist author? I’m not sure if I’m making sense to you. You’re just looking back at me. It just seems really weird you wouldn’t have a bushel.” This was a throwback patron, for sure. For one thing, she didn’t have her hands all over some lucky sophomore boy’s butt, and vice versa. She had her hair back in a pragmatic ponytail, and not a jot of makeup.

Oh—Le Guin had died. April sort of remembered that? Her attention span was minimal, lately, and it was mostly thanks to her very clean, very shaven, very wet slit. Going smooth had made her acutely aware that her legs rubbed together, that her shared boyfriend was around her all the time, and that he liked her hot and ready and randy.

“They’re in the back,” Bennett said, smoothly moving in. “Just came in. Big shipment. I’ll go get them.” Her savior. The reason why she wore a black cut-off shirt and high-cut brown drawstring shorts. The outfit didn’t work with her ornate makeup routine and the choker and just looked sort of trashy, which was the point.

“I’ll go help,” April said, struck with an idea.

She hurried to the back, where Bennett was busy with an X-acto knife over a big pallet of books. Their stocking area was full up with shipments, mostly naughty stuff, especially a daily outflow of Cecilia Kittens books. April slipped underneath him, reached for his fly.

“Whoa! We’re working, we have customers,” Bennett said, swatting at her hand.

“I’ll be quick,” April promised. She knew she was breaking protocol. This was a Jun day, but Jun had called in sick.

“Customers. Come on,” Bennett said.

“Come on meeeeee,” April said, grinning.

Bennett stepped back. He eyed her. April quieted down. She didn’t want black eyes. “Look, April, I appreciate the effort, but I can’t. Things with Jun got a little… wild… last night.”

April felt unexpectedly cold. “She called in sick because, what? You fucked her too much to move?” And on one of April’s days, no less. So no wonder he had hurried out of there.

“More or less,’ Bennett said, unashamed. He sighed. “Look… maybe you can talk me up.”

Talk him… talk dirty? She had never done that before. “Like… what do you like?”

Bennett shrugged. “You know what guys like.”

“I’ll give you the best blowjob ever,” April promised. She reached for his fly, pulled out his cock. It was horrifyingly limp. She had never seen it that way. It was panic-inducing. “I’ll suck your brains out, I swear.”

“That’s my job, April,” Bennett mumbled.

“What?”

Bennett shook his head again. “TRY, April. Here, tell me how much you want to suck my cock.”

“I.. I mean, obviously I do. We’re at work and I’m still trying to suck your cock.”

“You really want to suck my dick,” his eyes shone down on her. Black. Oh god. Her head spun. “You love sucking cock.”

“Bennetttttt,” she whined, needy. “I really want to suck your dick. I really really do.”

“Why?”

“It’s... “ oh, okay. Alright. So he wanted her to be creative. “It’s so good, so thick, so hard, so long. It has the best cum, the best everything. I want it in my mouth thrusting and hot and oh my god Bennett PLEASE!”

He gazed down on his still very limp penis. April didn’t know what to say.

“Try saying you’re my little personal fuck slut,” Bennett said.

“What?” No, that was too much. She could smell him. He looked so good. “Sorry?”

He looked a trifle embarrassed. “I know, but it’s an instant boner for me. Just tell me that you’re this cock-hungry slut who needs dick. And you need to mean it. That’s what you are, right?”

“Bennett, just let me SUCK you!”

Nothing. Lifeless. Bennett stuffed it back in. “It’s for the best,” he told her. “This is unprofessional. We have a customer out there.”

April slumped against the cardboard and spit out the drool she had saved up. “Fuck!” she swore. She walked out the back door. She couldn’t work like this anyway, she was just too stupid horny to care.

“April? Are you happy?” Bennett asked, unexpectedly.

“Yes sir,” she said, immediately. It was the next day.

“No,” he said, and clenched his fists. “Ugh. I just… god damn it.”

What was this? He seemed unhappy, unsure of himself. “I’m not even sure how to ask the right questions,” he said, aggrieved.

April took a closer look at him. He had gained a little weight, or perhaps just muscle, in the past few weeks. Filled out. As had April and Jun. They were all thrusting a little more skin against each other.

“Like, are you happier than you were a month ago?” he persisted. Bennett looked at her briefly, than away.

“Sure,” the question puzzled her. Of course she was.

“Even though you’re dressed like my personal whore and you suck my cock nearly every day,” Bennett said.

April wrinkled her nose. “I like sucking your cock. I like being your slut,” she said, very slowly. What was he getting at?

“What if I said you could be a professor somewhere? Or the president, or whatever?”

“What’s the catch?”

He nodded, seemed to calm down. “Right. Right. See, Cecilia would never ask that question. That’s the difference, right there. There’s choice. Choice is key. But I just can’t stop…” he shook his head. “April, you want to blow me right now, right?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, hopeful. It was a Jun day, now that it mattered. Every day was a Bennett day.

“Get under the register. And later tonight, talk to Jun. I think it’s time we all had a… sleepover. All three of us. You’d like that, right?” He kept trying to avoid her eyes, for the first time ever.

“Sure,” she said, already ducking under the counter.

“Great. Great,” Bennett said. He seated himself, sighed as she reached for his fly. But he was fully erect. “April, never tell anyone this, but my Dad made some good points. There is an inevitability to… this. It’s about controlling myself as much as it is… anyway. Suck away.”

She did.

Jun and April worked out the details of their anticipated threesome over DM.

The conversation was fraught and tense, the stakes a bit higher than international arms control. Bennett had pointedly invited both of them over for dinner.

T:

are you going to actually work your shift anytime soon

J:

unclear

T:

are you really just hanging around your apartment and having sex all the time

J:

perhaps

J:

perhaps i have discovered the perfect form of life

J:

where a man repeatedly services me sexually and i laze around in my underpants

T:

don’t lie

T:

you don’t wear underpants

J:

April… your points are fair…

J:

ugh this is so trashy

J:

April

J:

is this weird

J:

i know i should come to work but i just can’t seem to get motivated anymore

J:

i don’t feel depressed. I feel

J:

i feel really good actually

J:

like too good?

J:

and that’s weird because it’s not that great intellectually to have a boyfriend who you share and who mostly just comes over and fucks you?

J:

but like

J:

i just want to lay in bed

J:

and keep my legs open

J:

and nothing else

J:

for the rest of my life

J:

April?

April squeezed her legs together. She had to admit, she felt… sort of the same way. She’d look in the mirror, primping and fussing with ridiculous amounts of makeup, and there’d be this lazy, stupid, grin on her face. It was getting to be permanent.

T:

we did it, we found the only good guy.

J:

I guess? I mean.

J:

YEAH

J:

April it’s a little scary

J:

are your tits bigger?

J:

mine are bigger

J:

it’s like, all I can think about

J:

is my pussy

J:

it’s really weird

She didn’t want to think about this. The way she could feel sparks shooting through her when she licked her lips, the way she dreamed about his cum.

J:

like I tried to read some books today and it was basically impossible.

J:

is bennett… doing… this?

T:

anyway tonight.

J:

okay okay.

J:

yeah here we go, we’re doing this. We’re doing the threesome.

J:

lets get really real.

J:

i thought we’d flip a coin to see who makes him cum.

No, that was unacceptable.

T:

i have a better idea.

T:

he fucks you first.

T:

and I’ll finish him off. BUT you can take as long as you like. I’ll just be like, mopup duty.

J:

huhhh

J:

this offer is suspicious

J:

it’s good for me… and it’s good for bennett… but why is it good for April.

J:

wait a minute.

T:

agreed???

J:

how are you finishing him?

T:

does it matter?

J:

ah haaaaaaa HAAAAA.

J:

i have figured you out. The boy said something about this.

J:

about how i was his only pussy-slut, and i was like, that’s weird.

T:

yuck

J:

you’re a blowjob queen.

J:

you like blowing him, don’t you

It felt weird to be busted, if that’s what it was. So what?

T:

so what

J:

no problems on my end.

J:

lol get it, my end.

J:

sure, fair deal. we’ll tell B that’s the plan.

T:

what if he wants to do something else.

Why had she bothered with the question? Of course they’d do what he wanted.

J:

well we’ll do what he wants

J:

god this is so trashy

J:

is this liberating? Idk anymore. I’m just like, well i’m wet so it must be right?

J:

i know it’s super weird but i’m glad we can talk about it

J:

and the way bennett looks at me…

J:

like… it’s so much.

J:

those black eyes...

J:

April?

J:

April you there?

T:

yeah, see you tonight.

She had rushed to the bedroom to get her vibrator. These days it rarely went up her slit. She just buzzed it against her lips, gave it a few licks, and that was enough for her to jill off with a reasonably satisfying orgasm. It wasn’t the same as Bennett, obviously. But what was?

April laid face down on creamy, jizzy sheets, and tried to remember how to talk. And to figure out the passage of time, and all sorts of things.

It was hard to do any of these. She was so complete, so happy, so giggly-boo. Suffused with a warm inner glow, that brainless few moments of satisfaction post-orgasm turned into a apparently forever state of bliss. And it helped that she was super comfy and warm with a blanket over her. A blanket that turned out to be partly Jun, who was totally naked and sharing the bed.

It took April some time to realize why the glow was starting to dim. Right. Master… that is, sir… that is, Bennett… had left to go to work.

She sat up, groggy. Dried cum crackled. What time was it? What DAY was it?

“Jun whatsh—” she slurped. Her lips weren’t working very well. They felt puffier and more fuller than ever. She licked them, and it felt very, very good. Even eating was going to be pretty hot, that was very certain. “Whatsh going on? Jun, whakke—wake up!”

She had to admire her co-worker’s naked body. Jun was such a lovely, curvy thing. She was all tits and ass and wonderfully wide body. Had she—had April DONE stuff with it? What the hell had happened? Where even was she?

April walked unsteadily down a hall. She was naked. This was Bennett’s place. Right. She had shown up in a very carefully chosen dark purple dress with white thigh-highs. No panties of course. Lipstick bright red, and an entire packet of other makeup tubes and related gear in her bag, like ammunition. Jun had arrived in a bright yellow body-conscious thing that she had hidden under a khaki trenchcoat so she wouldn’t get arrested on the way over.

Bennett, good boy that he was, had cooked several courses while his girls sat drinking a very nice wine. It had been the longest conversation of April’s life.

“So I’m thinking we broaden our retail stock,” Bennett had said, serving out biryani. “The entire rest of the world is done with bookstores as selling just books.” That uncertainty April had witnessed was gone.

“Wait…” Jun had tried, frowning. She had her legs squeezed together under the table. “What do you mean?”

“When we sell a very horny young couple a copy of Cecilia’s book, they’re going to want accessories,” Bennett had explained. He had topped up the wine glasses and then casually ran his finger along April’s lips. She had shuddered with pleasure. “Vibrator, condoms, chocolates, you know?”

“So.. sex. You want to sell sex stuff,” Jun had frowned. But hadn’t protested when Bennett had her stand, twirl, and submit to shaved pussy inspection, same as April. The whole time with her eyebrows wrinkled. “So then we’re not really a bookstore anymore. We sell.. You know… books… for… umm… “ Bennett’s fingers had prodded at her. “Women. Oh god.”

“Women are sexual actors. They need tools to fulfill needs, we sell the tools. We facilitate the inevitable. Tools like this one.” He had produced a big veiny dildo from seemingly out of nowhere. April had stared at it. They both had. “$60 retail. April, why don’t you take it for a test drive? Right now. Jun, you bend over. Now.”

That had been it for dinner.

And then… what? It was a fuck-haze, a dream. April shied away from really remembering it. It was too raw, too strange. Had she really just sat there for hours, diddling herself, while Bennett had talked to her and Jun? Had they both been on their knees? Exactly how many times had she sucked him off? Enough for the warm tang of his cum to still fill her mouth, changed from her reward to a sort of generic sensation in her mouth. She could always taste him, now.

April walked through the kitchen. Had they even eaten anything since then? Drank water? There was no sign of takeout. Had she subsisted on jizz for—and what day was it? She sensed that it had been a long time. But the only thing around was evidence of sex. April’s dress was behind the TV. It had been completely torn in half. Jun’s dress April found in the refrigerator. There were puddles of girl juice all over the place, little bits of cum she had missed—on the table, the floor, the couches were actually soggy.

April licked her fingers clean, and winced. Was that who she was now? A girl who licked old jizz? But it tasted divine, like fresh-squeezed.

For certain she had been Bennett’s oral whore. No denying it. He had emptied into her repeatedly, casually, constantly. No sign of any exhaustion this time. He had been ravenous, always hard, his bobbing cock reducing both of them to shivering wrecks of girl. She knew every inch of his dick, every little vein, the way it quivered right before he came, the number of squirts he was about to produce. Had, at some point in the weekend, finally taken it all in, all the way down her throat, and cum so hard her vocal cords had scratched.

“Oh, man,” Jun said, stumbling in. “Ohhhhhh man. Where’s mas—the boy. Bennett? Where is Bennett?”

“He left a note,” April said. She peered at it. The words were slow to come to her. What was wrong with her? “Gone. To work. He went to work.”

“Oh, right, that,” Jun said. She yawned. Her tits were enormous. Had they always been that big? Jun had been a chubby little asian girl, not a stacked curvy goddess. “I’m like, half, cum,” Jun said. She sank into a chair. “Oh man. If I relax for a second it starts to slide out. What a night. Fun. April, no one has ever enjoyed blowies as much as you. You should see the videos I took.”

“Videos?” April felt like her body, her brain, was stuffed with fog and cotton candy. She tried to fight it, but the room smelled like sex and Bennett and was just too warm and comfortable. She was so… relaxed. “Whatsh—ugh!”

April strode into the bathroom. The shower curtain had been torn off, and the soap was just a tiny sliver. Right, they had spent hours in there.

The girl in the mirror was her… right? Hadn’t she always had perfect porcelain features, a doll-like look with a slightly vacant expression? And two big angel bows for lips, god’s natural cocksucker. Right? April tried to frown. Her lips weren’t good at it.

Jun crept up behind her, smushed her boobs together. She had enough tits to smush, right? “I’m gonna get some tongue time in again before Bennett gets back,” she said. “You are a machine, April. Like, oh my god. Your mouth. It’s insane.”

April experimentally made a perfect O out of her lips. Jun laughed at it. That explained the other taste in her mouth. Right, Bennett had spent most of a day only granting his cock to whichever girl came last in spirited finger-fuck and oral competitions. April had cleaned up, very literally.

“Jun, I’m… Jun, stop,” Her co-worker was still mauling her tits. They had always felt this good, right? “Jun, what DAY is it?”

“Saturday,” Jun answered promptly.

“Uhmm—” her mouth kept filling with drool. “Are you SURE?”

They found Jun’s phone, very sticky, in a drawer. Battery was depleted. April found a charger and got it going. She peered at the words, pointed it at Jun, who also took a moment. What was going ON?

“Tuesday, 9:30 a.m. Seven missed voicemails.” Jun read, uncertainty finally creeping into her voice. “Oh, fuck.”

April fidgeted with her tits while Jun checked voicemails. Well, she’d missed two days of work without any sort of explanation. That was bad. Three days were gone. Also she was naked at her sort-of boyfriend’s house and had no replacement clothes. She toyed with her hair, wondered when Bennett was coming back.

“Josephine’s mad,” Jun reported, at message 2. “Really super mad,” at message 5. “And… we’re fired.”

Bennett caught up with them at Jun’s apartment. Jun lived in a tiny studio on the upper floor of a donut shop, which smelled more like grease than anything good. She had covered the walls in posters—rock and indie of all sorts—and decorated the floor in discarded t-shirts. One small TV on an overturned milk crate, and a refrigerator that didn’t turn out to work.

April had followed her in a sort of vague reverie. She was having real trouble feeling anything but a sort of cheerful resignation, a sense of warmth. Nothing seemed to be really clearing her head. Jun finally snapped her out of it by giving her a hard look and then slapping her across the face.

“Ow! Fuck!” April swore. That did it. She looked around. “Why did you slap me?”

“You’ve got Bennett-head,” Jun said, matter of fact. She had managed to cobble together her clothes from days ago. April wore one of Bennett’s shirts as a kind of dress, and the smell of him wasn’t helping her attention span. “I’ve had it too. He kinda… fills you up with orgasms. Like too much. And then they’re all stored up in your head.”

That didn’t make much sense, but April wasn’t about to argue. She rubbed her jaw.

“We’ll drive to my cousin’s place in Arizona,” Jun declared. She looked at the floor. It had progressed over the past few weeks from dirty band shirts to a growing collection of slutty dresses and lacey underthings. “Get our shit together.”

“Ow. Why?”

“Look.. it’s…” Jun rubbed at her temples. She frowned. “It’s… look. Bennett. Sure, he’s a great guy.”

“Right. GREAT guy.”

“And he loves to cook for us and let us fuck him and suck his dick and…” Jun trailed off. She shook her head fiercely. “No! And… look, its just.. It’s… something’s up! I.. April, we got fucked so hard I couldn’t remember my last name all morning. That’s not right! And his eyes! Something’s wrong!”

“Yeah,” April said, uncertain. How do you complain about pleasure? How could she put a vague sense of wrongness into words, when she was struggling to put ANYTHING into words? “But… yeah, we lost a boring job because we had the best weekend ever, and we’ve never been closer, and this has been a lot more fun than sitting around reading books about… um… intersections and shit. Like, what’s the problem?”

“He’s.. he’s messing with us, okay?” Jun said. She gestured at her overflowing body “I don’t.. This isn’t me! These tits aren’t me! This ass isn’t me! I’m not a slut!”

“Whoa, everything alright?” Bennett said. He stood in the doorway, peering in. “Girls? Are you in there? Can I come in?”

“Yes,” April said, just as Jun said “No!”

“Whoa,” Bennett said. “Look, I’m sorry about your jobs. It’s my fault. I got carried away this weekend. It’s just who—PLEASE can I come in?” he looked at Jun.

Jun had shielded her eyes. “No, Benny! Stop… I can’t argue with you when you’re all… Looking. With your eyes. At stuff.”

“Here, they’re closed. And I’m walking in,” Bennett obediently closed his eyes, walked inside, and tripped on a trashy purple dress with a fringe for a hem.

Both of the girls giggled, helplessly. Bennett’s eyes opened. He looked at Jun. She couldn’t look away. It was pretty hot, April had to admit.

“Josephine just got upset,” Bennett said, soothingly. He didn’t break eye contact. “But don’t worry. Give me a little bit of time, I’m gonna get your jobs back. I’m the assistant manager now,” He stood up. The girls nodded at him. So weird that his eyes were blue. And black. So horny. “And I thought while I’m doing that you ladies can just come live with me. Right? Keep fucking me? Just fuck and suck and never have to worry about anything else again? Be my two personal toys?”

“Ummm. No,” April tried to say. Jun had said to say no, so that made sense, right? She could say no if she wanted to. Bennett looked at her.

“No, really, its no trouble at all. It’ll be fun. Like a sleepover. We’ll get your clothes so you aren’t wandering naked all the time. And I’ll call your landlords, get those leases cancelled. I bet anything I can get your deposits back. Look, you’re too far gone. Both of you. That’s on me. Nonetheless, the best answer now is to just enjoy it.” The eyes flashed. Jun had sat down on the ground, heavily. Silly Jun, being on the ground was April’s job.

He put his hands on his hips. So adorable. “I’m gonna make you girls earn your keep though. April, you’re gonna be more than my spacey blonde cocksucker. And Jun, you’re not just gonna be my pussy toy. You gotta clean the place up and stuff. Okay? Sound like a good deal? It’s totally up to you.”

“Spacey blonde cocksucker,” April mumbled. Well, not JUST that. She was a modern, independent woman, who could do a little housework. How could she say no to all that?

“Bennett is SUCH a great guy,” April said, out of nowhere. She looked up from the stovetop, to over where Jun was idly watching porn on TV.

‘I know, silly bitch,” Jun said, not even looking up. On screen, a boy was getting sucked off by two girls at once, the two of them sharing licks and giggles and glances. Jun was trying to get better at dicksucking.

Both of them had reclaimed so many bad words for women. Cocksucker, for one. That was a badge of honor. Slut, toy, whore, bitch, tramp. They were all of those things and more.

“Yeah… but… he is…” April said. She felt a warm rush and put her hands on the countertop. It didn’t take much to make her excruciatingly, wonderfully horny, and pretty much anything about Bennett did it. She forced herself to concentrate. Bennett would be back in forty minutes, and dinner needed to be on the table, and she needed to be under it. “C’mon, Junny, you say it too.”

They both did. As much as Jun liked to protest, and say they were “totally stupid sex slaves now,” and complain about not being able to read, it was hard to deny that Bennett was absolutely the best guy ever. Sensitive, caring, empathic, he had a big dick, supportive.

Like for example—and listing his wonderful qualities made April SO wet—when she arrived at his place she had no sense of personal style. Just a very random assembly of clothes that were sorta hot, mixed in with unfuckable jeans and boring blouses from a life she only half-remembered. It was so sweet that Bennet had looked at her ultra-luxe made up face, paired with old faded shirts, and refused to laugh.

Now she was all about high leggings, pantyhose, thick belts, short black dresses, all paired with her wonderful choker. She had gone tonight with her favorite dark blue stretch dress that just barely reached below her pussy.

Jun, stroking herself on his couch, was full-bubblegum. Bennett had thrown away all her past-punk, her dark blacks and blood-reds, and replaced them with neon pinks, yellows, greens. Short shorts, poodle-y skirts, rainbow socks. Jun had made some noises about it making her look like a horny teenage slut, but getting faux-mad at Bennett was just their version of foreplay. “Bennett, I can’t remember phone numbers,” and “Bennett, I’m not your little dress up toy,” always ended with Jun cumming all over the furniture.

And yeah, she did have a point. April didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about feminist stuff anymore. Probably being a couple of live-in fuckdolls wasn’t super progressive or whatever. Probably she should’ve run for it or something. But c’mon, run with her new tits? They’d bounce all over the place.

And when would she find time to leave? Makeup was a full hour every morning no exceptions. Makeup tutorials another hour. Usually an hour was spent on Jun, licking her so yummy slit or making her scream with one of the vibrators. Then shopping online which took forever what with all the hard words. Three hours doing housework, then it was time to cook dinner. And once Bennett got home it was Bennett time all the time. That left a total of 2 minutes per day to read books and shit and frankly April would rather watch some porn or freshen up her lipstick. When was there TIME to be a strong independent woman? It was a full-time job getting ready for Bennett’s first post-work blowie.

“We should… run or something,” Jun mumbled. April shook her head. Oh, Jun. She spent so much time, furrowed brow, trying to read stuff on the internet about hypnosis and stuff. It just made her horny. She’d once formulated an entire plan for walking out which included them arriving back at the apartment just in time for Bennett to fuck them. So silly.

Especially because they were both learning so much about fucking. April didn’t mean to brag, but it was possible she was the best dumb horny dicksucker in the entire state. It wasn’t even clear she had a gag relax anymore. She knew exactly when to lick, when to suck, when to smile, when to close her eyes, when to keep them open. She could get Bennett to cum within a minute if she really worked it—and he was such a dear for going along with the time trials idea she’d had. Jun, meanwhile, was a walking catalog of ways to aggressively fuck, had cum on all the furniture in the apartment.

Yes, all that new knowledge came at something of a price. Yes, April got a headache when she tried to read labels on the remote control. Yes, it could be disorienting to have an entire college education in gender theory turn into a mushy blur, but so what?

“Jun, he’s almost home,” April called out. That got Jun’s horny ass off the couch. April’s bestie checked her outfit anxiously, refreshed her lips, rubbed her legs together. She was the welcome-home girl on Tuesdays, and was hardly about to jeopardize that with complaints about forgetting algebra.

Bennett asked so little of them, too. Housework, dinner, back massages, servitude, that was about it. He even did the grocery shopping, had cancelled all their credit cards, tossed their old clothes. And given April such wonderful lips, such fuckable big tits. They bobbled perfectly on her chest, with big wine red nipples. Bennett had told her swallowing his cum did it, made them swell up and get awesome, and she believed it utterly. Had taken to checking in the mirror to make sure no Bennett cum had escaped her mouth, lapping it out of Jun as it dribbled out.

Bennett cum did its best work in pussies, judging from Jun’s all-over curves, but she was his cocksucker and it was something April took seriously.

“I’m back!” he said, smiling, walking through the door. Jun had gone with a light green bikini top and jean shorts. Bennett claimed he didn’t like trashy, but that was a lie. She met him with a kiss, groped for his cock. April wondered what kissing Bennett was like. She’d never once tried.

“Not yet! Not yet!” he said. Jun stepped back, hesitant. She had been punished before for various transgressions. Once she had tried to post “HELP I’M GETTING BIMBOIZED” on facebook, disaster only avoided when she got too horny to actually hit send. But Bennett was smiling.

“I have good news!” he said, shucking off his coat. April waited underneath the table. “I got you two your jobs back! At Georgia’s!”

“Oh, sir!” Jun said.

“I told you I would!” Bennett said. He reached for Jun, gave her a deep, searing kiss, stared deep into her eyes. Jun moaned. That was the only one of Jun’s complaints that April took semi-seriously—too much Benny-eyes kinda burned at the brain cells. “I told you!” He rubbed between Jun’s legs. Her shorts were completely wet.

“Lets celebrate,” Bennett declared. “I cleared everything with Josephine. You two will start work tomorrow. I’ll pick out outfits. You’ll really love the changes I made.”

April licked her lips. Bennett celebrations got pretty intense. It was still disconcerting to wake up a little unsure of your own name. On the other hand… multiple goes at Bennett’s cock on a Tuesday.

“I’m sure I’ll love them,” she said.

She really wanted to get bigger tits.

Bennett was so eager to please. He had been a big ball of anxiety all morning, and April had had her mouth full trying to keep him calm. It was difficult to sooth with a blowjob, but a steady, relaxing, back and forth motion seemed best. She just kept on her knees as he paced around, making phone calls, occasionally stopping by for a suck.

“Okay, girls, lets go,” he finally said, and the duo sat up. He had dressed them personally in their new work clothes. Floral-themed, yellow for Jun, a medley of blue flowers for April, both strapless, of course.

April had never done her makeup with such care, had never felt more confident in herself, her choices. She had applied heavy doses of mascara, carefully lined her eyebrows, and anointed and basted in four different layers of skin toners. Her skin gleamed. Her lipstick was a relatively sedate burnt pink, and needed just a quick touch up in the car to be flawless. She would stride in in a secure relationship, with the perfect man, the perfect job, the best friend, and all she had to give up was reading and personal independence.

Georgia’s had undergone a lot of work in just a—April wasn’t actually sure how long it had been since that threesome. Some time. The barber shop was gone, Georgia’s expanded into it, the combined stores linked by a hot neon pink sign in glowing script.

There was a small crowd, girls dressed like her for an occasion, all sorts of lycras and spandex. Some of them April vaguely recognized as previous customers, then-dressed in bad jeans and with fluffy unwashed hair. They looked so much better, and their lipstick was all perfect.

“Come on in! Come on in!” Bennett urged, throwing open the doors. There was a flood inside. April and Jun waited, patiently. Even fidgety Jun was calm, for once—Bennett had very thoughtfully fingered her on the car ride over to keep her chill.

“Where’s the… the… uh… the books?” Jun said, once they were in. She carefully pitched it so as to not sound complain-y. Bennett had sternly explained that only bad girls whined about their boobs tripling in size, and there were bimbos in poor countries that would love to get such great tits.

April looked around. There were… no books. Wait, a few, piled on one of the expensive-looking wooden tables that had replaced their plastic fixtures. The ones about fucking, Cecilia’s crowning them.

The rest of the stock was… all sorts of sexy stuff. A little fuck store. Cute outfits, all sorts of lubricant in rows, sex toys both inexpensive and extraordinarily expensive. The remastered barber shop had VR helmets next to Sybian machines.

“Umm… what do you want us to do?” April asked. There were already new cashiers, which she had sort of assumed was their job. A very pretty girl with frizzy black hair, dressed like them in red floral. And a blonde with a huge smile, her hair up in pigtails, in the briefest shorts, who April only eventually recognized as Josephine. She was handing out samples of lubricant.

“Jun, you’re going to help people with the sybians,” Bennett said. That part of the store was already collecting interest, girls looking at the big phallus on it with real want. He waved a hand. “First ride is free. April, you’re going to help sell makeup. There’s an entire aisle, just for you.”

April almost felt a few tears creep loose, and stifled them. It was the dream job she had always wanted, since recently.

“So much fuss, and my son goes and starts a sex shop,” a very deep voice said. April turned towards it.

Bennett grimaced. He stood up straight. The man approaching had Cecilia Kittens on his arm. She was dressed in pure white, with a big scarf around her neck, artfully set to show off her tits.

“Hi Dad,” Bennett said.

April clutched Benett’s arm protectively. They were similar looking men—dark jackets, dark beards, and—their glances met, and April felt dizzy. She looked at the floor. Black and blue.

“I thought you were a world away,” Bennett said. “Singapore, right?”

“Well, I heard from Cecilia! Cecilia actually wrote out a text, god bless her!” the man said. “My son, who has made very long and very boring speeches about responsibility and choice, has nonetheless gone about turning respectable girls into pets, just like he said he wouldn’t. I had to come see it for myself.”

“It’s not like that,” Bennett said, stiffly.

“Son, please,” Bennett’s Dad said. He smiled at April, extended a hand. “I’m Nick, by the way. Very nice to meet you. Can you tell me what nine plus five is?”

April kept her eyes squeezed shut, and shook his hand blind. Which meant she couldn’t count on her fingers. But she couldn’t let Bennett down. “Twelve,” she hazarded.

Nick laughed.

“Are you here to gloat?” Bennett said. The air practically smoked between them.

“I was hoping for a reconciliation,” Nick said, the smile disappearing. “You’ve been out in the world, you’ve seen what our family’s role is, you understand what we’ve all gone through in our early careers. And now you’ve carved out something similar.”

“This isn’t the same,” Bennett insisted, fiercely.

“Son, it’s a fuck shop, and she can’t add. She has tits out to here. It’s fine. Lets go talk. Bring her.”

“It’s different!” Bennett insisted. “Look, yes, I… I need this. Alright. You were right about that. But I never forced anything and my top priority is not ME, it’s THEM.”

“And that’s why they’re brainless little bimbos?” Nick scoffed. Cecilia caught April’s eyes, rolled her own. “Boys,” she mouthed. April nodded.

“Leave Bennett alone,” April surprised herself by talking. The men looked truly astonished. She took a breath.

“Bennett is the best guy there’s ever been and he might be the best person ever, out of all the people. He works so hard to give to everyone, makes everyone in his life so happy, gives them all wonderful bodies and a bunch of great orgasms and super good pussies and lots of yummy cum, and I don’t want anyone making fun of him! He’s like some sort of fuck factory guy that makes everyone cum and if that means all we wanna do is fuck that’s because it’s so awesome! So go away and stop being a turd to him, old man!”

They looked at her.

Cecilia let loose a long, sliding whistle.

“Alright, young lady, fair enough. And well put,” Nick conceded. He shrugged. “I didn’t just come here to crap on your work. You’re trying to put it all together. I did too. That’s all I meant. I know how difficult it is.”

“Dad...” Bennett looked around, sheepish. “I think we’re affecting people.”

April turned. Josephine had been bent over the counter by some big guy and was getting her butt enthusiastically fucked. Over by the sybians Jun was screaming and shaking as the machine rattled beneath her. Anyone not fucking was at least masturbating, bodies all over each other, hands stroking and any unoccupied lips moaning.

“We should go,” Bennett said, eyeing the scene. “Why don’t you come over for dinner?”

“I’d like that,” Nick said. He put his arm around Cecilia. “We’ll be there at 6:30. I’ll bring a bottle.”

Bennett put his own arm around April. “Thanks,” he murmured, his own eyes down for once. He turned to April as the older man walked off.

“You can… you know… if you don’t want to… I really do believe in consent as a principle,” the perfect man said.

“Uh-huh, sure, great,” April said, distracted. She really wanted to dive in to the orgy. “Can I be the first to lick off Cecilia tonight?”