Dorthy hesitantly pushed open the door to the sex boutique, and heard the little electronic chime announce the arrival of another customer. She'd been afraid to simply walk in, even though her friends had told her it was a high-class store in a nice part of town. With the door open, she took a quick glance around the room, and realized the shoppers walking up and down the aisles were all ages (though, clearly, all adults), male AND female, and most of them dressed well and even fashionably. They could be office professionals, doctors, lawyers, salesmen and saleswomen. Definitely not the shabby, all-male clientele Dorthy associated with the words "adult store." This place suited "upscale suburbia" very well, and she realized she would blend in with the crowd just fine.
A few more steps brought Dorthy through the doorway. She let go of the door, allowing it to close, and began browsing the products in one aisle, glancing at the packaged dildos, toy handcuffs, and black oval masks -- trying to look interested, but not TOO interested. There seemed to be a mild scent of perfume all about the place, almost like those stores that sold fancy soaps and bubble baths, and Dorthy found that somewhat soothing, even relaxing. Much more so than the Christmas music playing in the background, just like every other store this time of year. She was so tired from trudging through the mall from one shop to the next. Searching for the perfect gift for a friend or a relative. So tired. Feet aching, mind numb from all the bright displays and twinkling lights. She wanted a break from holiday shopping -- wanted to set all that aside and do something really special, for herself. Something unusual. Even daring.
Dorthy picked up a bright pink rubber butt plug, tightly shrink-wrapped in plastic. Not quite the direction of "daring" she had in mind, though she found her eyes running over some of the other appliances, taking in the large variety of colors, shapes, and sizes. Some of them looked absolutely gigantic, making the one in her hand seem tame and ordinary by comparison. She set the plug back down on the shelf, hoping nobody had noticed her staring. Looking up, sneaking a glance at the other shoppers, Dorthy realized some of them probably felt as awkward as she did. Certainly precious few of them were comfortable enough to go marching up to the counter, several dildos in hand, and start chatting up the salespeople at the register. She could just imagine. "Is this all you've got? Perhaps in the back, you have something a little more -- oh, I don't know... geometric? With square edges? Or perhaps a corkscrew shape?" She smiled a little, relaxing a bit more. Her sense of humor always helped her feel more comfortable.
She saw that all of the walls had displays of clothing, draped on hangers or worn by mannequins. Teddies made of nearly transparent material, with little ribbons. Negligees with feather boas. Garter belts, stockings. Wigs. Running through the spectrum, all the way to tight catsuits, leather corsets, boots, and "clothes" that were nothing more than strips of vinyl linked by rings and buckles. Hmmm... intriguing. But clothes are most interesting if you're going to show off to someone else. Dorthy wanted something all for herself. Private. Yes, something she could do all alone, or maybe with somebody else -- but it would be her choice, either way. She walked down another aisle, thinking some more about those butt plugs and dildos.
And at the end of the aisle... she saw it. The sex rider.
Oh, it didn't really look like all that much. Not a test of one's bravery, like some of the Gargantuan vibrators on the shelves nearby. It looked like a large bolster pillow on the floor, covered with vinyl, with a dildo sticking up out of it, a remote control to one side. So simple. But Dorthy had heard about these. About how they wiggled, and circled, and vibrated. Touching all the right places. In all the right ways. She walked toward the display, looking at the rider. Looking at the pictures nearby, of a woman seated on the cushion, clearly deeply impaled by the dildo, fondling her breasts. A look of rapture on her face. The small table nearby held a collection of dildos and plugs -- clearly the dildo could be removed and replaced with other attachments of different shapes, sizes, configurations. Dorthy smiled again as she thought about the corkscrew...
"Can I help you miss?"
Dorthy nearly jumped! She hadn't noticed the saleslady walking up behind her. It was hard to tear her eyes away from the machine on display, hard to direct her drifting thoughts toward anything else. But she turned -- and found herself caught by the saleslady's eyes. They were a deep green. Like sea water. Like a forest. They seemed to spin...
"I... I was..." Dorthy tried to remember why she was looking at something. What she was looking at. Something. The woman was taller than her, and had long, blonde hair.
"You were relaxing," the saleslady said. "Drifting... and relaxing... It's been a long day, and you're tired..."
"Yes," Dorthy replied. Almost whispering.
"Tired, and sleepy, and looking for a way to relax," the saleslady continued.
"I was..." Was she trying to remember something. The saleslady's eyes were so pretty. Her voice so soothing. She knew exactly how Dorthy felt, what she wanted...
"Let yourself relax some more, because it feels so good," the saleslady continued. "Just let go and drift down. That's right. Your eyes are tired. Tired. Let your eyes close. Just for a moment."
Dorthy's eyes seemed to shut, oh so gently. It felt so good. Just to stand there, not moving, and listen.
"And listen to my voice. That's right. Relax. You want to relax. You want to let go. And relax. You are now completely relaxed, and focused on my voice. That's right. Now, listen carefully. Because I'm going to tell you something very important. Something you're going to like a lot! In the back room, I'm going to demonstrate how this sex machine works. You want to be at that demonstration. Don't you? Nod your head yes!"
Dorthy's head gently bobbed down and up, twice.
"Good girl! You find yourself VERY aroused by this machine, don't you? You're starting to feel wet between your legs. Nod your head yes."
Dorthy nodded again, and tightened her thighs together, wiggling a little. The voice knew exactly what she wanted.
"Listen carefully, now. Tell me your name."
"Good. Dorthy, you're getting so aroused by this machine, you want to try it out yourself. Don't you?"
Dorthy's mouth went dry. She started to say, "Yes" -- but could not speak. She nodded her head again.
"Well, I'm going to help you, Dorthy. Listen carefully. I'm going to count to three. When I reach three, you will wake up, and follow me into the back room, where I have a machine just like this, all set up. And you will be unable to resist sitting down on it. Do you understand?"
Dorthy was trembling, now. She couldn't wait to get onto the machine. Her mouth hung open, slightly, and she nodded again.
"Good girl. On the count of three, now. One, slowly coming around. Two, eyes starting to open. And three, wide awake."
Dorthy seemed to lose her balance for a moment. She looked at the saleslady and smiled, a little embarrassed. The blonde woman smiled back, her green eyes glinting, almost mischievously. She crooked her finger for Dorthy to follow, and turned. With a quick backward glance at the sex machine, Dorthy followed the saleslady through the curtained doorway, into the back room.
Inside, there were rows and rows of shelves, reaching from floor to ceiling. All of them filled with boxes of more dildos, lubricants, and sexy costumes. Dorthy was amazed at how much inventory there was, ready to replenish the shelves out front or be sent out for orders received by mail or the internet. The perfumed scent of the shop was not as strong, here. Instead, it mostly smelled like cardboard boxes, and a little dusty. She followed the tall woman past shelf after shelf, listening to the click, click, click of her boots echoing in the little warehouse. Shortly, they arrived at a room near the back, with an open doorway. The woman entered, and turned, looking back at Dorthy, gesturing an invitation to enter the room. Dorthy hesitated. She could see it was just the break room -- a small table and a couple of chairs, a sink with a coffee maker and a rack of tea bags on the counter. Then she saw the vinyl-covered bolster cushion on the floor. Her knees felt weak. And her mind felt tired again, swimming, relaxing. The wetness between her legs -- where was that coming from? She wanted nothing more than to sit on that cushion.
"Come on in, Dorthy," the saleslady said. "Sit down. And RELAX!"
Dorthy walked through the doorway, set her purse down, and stepped over to the cushion. She straddled it, one leg on either side, and began to lower herself onto it. For some reason, she found herself lifting her dress as she did so, settling her crotch down onto the smooth, cool surface -- separated from her skin only by the thin material of her panties.
.... There is more of this story ...