JoJo appears to have seen something you haven’t. As the rest of the group breaks apart to explore the vast room, you thread your way through the bushes, letting the soft leather tendrils of the floggers fall through your fingers and feeling the slick plasticky heft of the XXL dildos hanging low off the trees.
As you catch up to her, you see JoJo disappear into a wall of sunflowers, their faces bent upwards to drink in the pinkish light. You push through their plastic stems until you are completely enveloped in the forest.
“JoJo?” you call, trying to make out any movement through the flowers.
“Over here, Charli,” JoJo responds excitedly.
You follow her voice, pushing through until you reach a small clearing. A halo of orange light surrounds a large tree trunk in the middle, and JoJo stands in front of it, examining some sort of leather contraption.
“Isn’t this place amazing?” She turns and grins at you. “The solar panels are a nice touch,” she adds, pointing at the sunflowers. You notice now the grids on their mechanical faces.
“Yeah, it’s crazy. Why’d you run off so fast?”
“I saw this light shining up from the middle of the room,” she says, gesturing at the tree trunk. “I figured it would be something pretty cool.“
“What is it?” you ask, drawing closer.
At first glance it looks like some sort of complex halter top. But then you notice the classic Kisska dildo attached, this time in a sleek chrome. Long, thin cables with spindly lights running through them connect it to the tree trunk.
“I’m going to try it on,” JoJo says with a hungry look in her eye.
“Are you sure it's safe?” you ask as she slips out of her jeans, revealing her muscular thighs. You catch yourself staring at the curve of her ass as she slides the harness on, adjusting it so that the base of the dildo rests over her clit.
“Well, what do you think? How does it feel?”
JoJo is staring down at the dildo with wide eyes.
“It feels…” she trails off.
“Yes?”
“It feels fucking fantastic” she breathes. She reaches a hesitant hand out to touch the dildo’s tip, letting out a small gasp when she does.
“I can feel it, Charli,” she exclaims. Her chest is growing flushed and slightly damp with the heat as she takes slow, steady breaths, her eyes still on the dildo.
You move closer, as if in a daze, lulled by the pleasant jungle smell of the air and the sharp tang of JoJo’s sweat.
“I don’t know how to describe it but, oh,” she closes her eyes as she strokes the dildo and shudders slightly. “It’s like it’s part of my body. It’s my dick.”
You don’t remember how you got so close to her. You feel almost hypnotized. She leans back against the tree trunk, legs splayed, face tilted against the rosy light, her eyes still closed. When she opens them she seems surprised to find you so close, but then a warm smile washes over her face.
“You can feel it, if you like,” she whispers.
You nod slowly. Your heart is beating fast and a tendril of sweat is snaking down your back. You reach out to touch the dildo, expecting cold metal, but instead it feels warm, almost soft, like human skin.
“Oh Charli,” JoJo whispers. You’ve never heard this voice of hers before, low and sweet, gently pleading. You feel the blood coursing through you and you grip the dildo harder, giving it one slow stroke. JoJo moans, reaching out a hand to grab your arm. She pulls you close to her, her dark brown eyes locked on yours, when-
SPLASH!
You hear shouting and the sound of people running from beyond the sunflower forest. You and JoJo break apart. She has an almost guilty look on her face.
“We should see what’s happening,” she says quickly, unstrapping the harness and placing it gently back on the tree trunk before hurriedly pulling on her jeans.
You follow her through the forest, feeling confused. When you emerge you find the rest of the group standing at the edge of the Lube River, looking towards the hole in the wall where it drains off.
“What happened?” you ask.
“Terrible pity,” sniffs Viola, “my fifth husband perished in just the same way. Well, he wasn’t exactly one of my favourites, but still.”
Jessica sighs, looking bored, and pops their headphones over their ears once again.
“Not to worry!” Kisska trills from the sidelines. “Arnold should be fine, the SAMMs will be along any second to scoop him out and get him nice and dry and on his way.”
SAMMs? Before you have a chance to ask what she means, you notice shapes moving behind a tree canopy of anal beads on the other side of the river. Old-fashioned robots, looking like something from a 1950s film, start to emerge one by one. They chatter to each other in a nonsense language and point their stiff arms towards the hole in the wall where Arnold Slick has apparently just disappeared.
“Made right here in the UK! They were originally designed by a travel company to guide people around the city, but unfortunately the lubricant that keeps them running turned out to be a very powerful aphrodisiac. People were too turned on to pay attention to the city sights! As you can imagine, I was more than happy to take them off their hands.” She beams at the robots, who are now lowering a raft into the water to retrieve Arnold Slick. “I call them my SAMMs: Seriously Arousing Mechanical Men.”
Your group watches as a small group of SAMMs clambers awkwardly into the raft and begins to row downriver. As they disappear around the bend, Kisska claps her hands, looking just as chipper as before.
“Well, accidents happen, but we won’t let us keep that from our afternoon of eroticism! Climb aboard the S.S. Kisska and we’ll head to our next stop.”
You turn to find a large, electric blue vulva boat bobbing peacefully in the lube river. At the clit — or is the helm? — a SAMM idly spins the wheel while your fellow contestants pile into the soft velvet benches nestled in the folds of the labia. Kisska climbs aboard last, giving the boat a loving pat.
“Designed after my own, of course. Swedish shipmaker. I can give you the contact info if you’re in the market.”
Diega nudges Sugar Daddy, who hurries over to take down the details. You sail down the river, headed for a tunnel. JoJo sits beside you, her leg pressed ever so slightly to yours. You chance a look at her, only to find her smiling broadly at you. She squeezes your knee and you let yourself relax — it’s not going to be weird between you.
Suddenly, you’re plunged into darkness. You’ve reached the tunnel. The first few seconds are pure blackness before flickering lights start to appear on the walls, seemingly projected from nowhere. Snippets of porn scenes fade in and out, the pictures overlapping, moans and wet slurping and the smack of skin on skin layered in an erratic cacophony. You catch fragments, a soft kiss, a line of spit between an open mouth and a pierced nipple, a pair of balls being squeezed by a strong hand.
“Submissions from my fans to the Kisska Erotic Video Database,” Kisska shouts, the sound echoing through the chamber. You glance behind her to see the profile of a woman writhing and arching her back, a profile that seems suspiciously similar to JoJo’s - or maybe she’s still lingering in the back of your mind. Viola is quietly sipping a white wine spritzer she seems to have inexplicably produced from her enormous purse while Jessica beside her is staring, mouth agape, at the porn-covered walls. Sugar Daddy keeps trying to rest a hand on Diega’s knee, which she swats away reflexively every time.
As you round the corner out of the tunnel, a door appears on your right, where your group disembarks. Kisska is practically bouncing up and down with excitement. Behind her, you can hear faint mechanical sounds, whirring and grinding and the occasional screech of metal.
“We’re about to enter one of the most important rooms in the factory — the Inventing Room.” She pats the door affectionately. “I’ve had three of my top five best orgasms in this room,” she adds dreamily.
“Cumming on the job — very unprofessional,” whispers Viola, “At my company, cumming is strictly regulated to break times.”
“Will there be another trip through the porn tunnel?” Jessica asks desperately.
Kisska ignores them both and claps her hands together.
“Follow me!”
She pushes the door open to a dizzying array of sounds. The room behind her is packed with machines that clank and whir, emitting puffs of coloured smoke and filling the air with a strange mix of smells, hot metal and florals and something sharp and salty, like sea air.
“This is where it all happens!” Kisska says, spreading her arms wide, “I remember when I was molding my first butt plugs in my great aunt’s basement and now it’s turned into all this.”
You watch as SAMMs move between machines, turning dials and making notes on tablets. Kisska motions for your group to follow her and she leads you toward a small rainbow-striped machine, her tiara occasionally bumping against the thick metal tubes that run overhead.
As you approach, you see a conveyor belt carrying a line of colourful balls with straps on either side. Jessica looks curious. Kisska gives them a push towards the belt.
“Go ahead, you can taste one!”
“Taste one?” Jessica says, their brow furrowed.
“Yes, yes, don’t be shy!” Kisska shouts.
Jessica lifts up a purple ball and licks it tentatively. They give a confused smile.
“Unsanitary,” you hear Viola sniff under her breath.
“It’s candy,” Jessica says, continuing to lick the ball.
Kisska smiles.
“Ah, it’s not just candy, my sweet sugar plum! It’s a Multi-Flavoured Everlasting Ball Gag. It never gets smaller, no matter how much saliva gets on it.”
“Oh, so like an Everlasting Gobstopper. But with straps on,” Jessica points out helpfully.
Kisska’s face darkens. “No, this is something completely different that I invented. Let’s move on.”
As she rounds the corner, you see a striking brunette in a white lab coat standing at a distance, next to a corkboard wall with several dildos sticking out of it. They carefully measure some liquid into a vial, their eyes obscured by a pair of heavy protective goggles. As they turn to nod at your group, you could swear you see them wink at you.
“Over there, you can see my most trusted assistant, Helene Le Schneidere, working on our new prototype.”
Helene dips a thin rod into the vial, holds it to the light and blows on it gently. The bubble floats towards one of the dildos, then pops over it, leaving it coated in a superthin film.
“Prophylactic bubbles!” Kisska cries, grabbing Sugar Daddy’s arm in excitement, “It feels like practically nothing’s there.”
She hustles along towards the far end of the room, closest to another set of tall doors.
“One last thing to show you, I think you’ll really like this!” she calls over her shoulder.
“What’s over there?” Diega asks, pointing at a glass door to the right.
“Through that door are our new VR headsets. I’d invite you to try them but they’re not quite ready yet, they’re still in development. Eventually you’ll be able to put it on and it will show you your innate fantasies. You won’t even need to actively direct it to do anything, it will be able to read your subconscious desires and project them back to you, in a virtual reality. We’re experimenting with partner work right now too, so one person puts the headset on and the person with the other headset on also gets projected into their fantasy too.”
The crowd gasps with interest, and you love the idea of putting something on your head and being told what your fantasy is. You always feel so vanilla when someone asks you what your biggest sexual fantasy is and you have nothing to say.
You press your nose against the glass door, with your hands either side of your face flat against the glass, and gaze at the headsets. Kisska comes up behind you and puts her hands over yours. Breathing onto your neck she says ‘I wouldn’t sweetie.’ Then she cups her hand around your ear to feign secrecy, as if this is an intimate moment just between you and her and her cupped hand excludes the rest of the group from your conversation, although they’re all about a metre away, and listening intently. “We’re still ironing out the kinks babe. Good little girls like you should stay out of there until the technology is ready for you to…receive it.” With that she walks off in the other direction, gesturing for the rest of the group to follow her.
“Come along ducklings, next I have something you can really play with.” You are ready to follow obediently at the back of the group, like the vanilla little duckling you are, when you hear a psst from behind you, and turn around to see Viola Beverly shimmying the lock to the VR room open with her Centurion American Express Card.
‘Hey kid,’ she hisses. ‘Help me with this would you?’
You hesitate. Her large handbag is falling off her shoulder as she presses her perfectly pleated pant suit leg into the door, applying just the right amount of pressure while simultaneously frigging the door violently with her very expensive piece of metal. And just like that the door pops open, and Viola giggles with the thrill of her own excellence and lights a cigarette. Her signature move after any sort of satisfaction. Viola’s designer spectacles have transition lenses in them, and now they sit low on her nose as fully transitioned cat eye sunglasses. She stealthily sneaks inside the VR room with her cigarette slightly askew, and turns back to you one more time.
"Don’t be such a fucking wimp. My company basically invented this technology back in the dot-com bubble, it’s completely harmless. And they don’t call me Shelon Musk for nothing baby, trust me, I’m very experienced. I’ll show you the ropes kid. Come on!"
As you catch up to her, you see JoJo disappear into a wall of sunflowers, their faces bent upwards to drink in the pinkish light. You push through their plastic stems until you are completely enveloped in the forest.
“JoJo?” you call, trying to make out any movement through the flowers.
“Over here, Charli,” JoJo responds excitedly.
You follow her voice, pushing through until you reach a small clearing. A halo of orange light surrounds a large tree trunk in the middle, and JoJo stands in front of it, examining some sort of leather contraption.
“Isn’t this place amazing?” She turns and grins at you. “The solar panels are a nice touch,” she adds, pointing at the sunflowers. You notice now the grids on their mechanical faces.
“Yeah, it’s crazy. Why’d you run off so fast?”
“I saw this light shining up from the middle of the room,” she says, gesturing at the tree trunk. “I figured it would be something pretty cool.“
“What is it?” you ask, drawing closer.
At first glance it looks like some sort of complex halter top. But then you notice the classic Kisska dildo attached, this time in a sleek chrome. Long, thin cables with spindly lights running through them connect it to the tree trunk.
“I’m going to try it on,” JoJo says with a hungry look in her eye.
“Are you sure it's safe?” you ask as she slips out of her jeans, revealing her muscular thighs. You catch yourself staring at the curve of her ass as she slides the harness on, adjusting it so that the base of the dildo rests over her clit.
“Well, what do you think? How does it feel?”
JoJo is staring down at the dildo with wide eyes.
“It feels…” she trails off.
“Yes?”
“It feels fucking fantastic” she breathes. She reaches a hesitant hand out to touch the dildo’s tip, letting out a small gasp when she does.
“I can feel it, Charli,” she exclaims. Her chest is growing flushed and slightly damp with the heat as she takes slow, steady breaths, her eyes still on the dildo.
You move closer, as if in a daze, lulled by the pleasant jungle smell of the air and the sharp tang of JoJo’s sweat.
“I don’t know how to describe it but, oh,” she closes her eyes as she strokes the dildo and shudders slightly. “It’s like it’s part of my body. It’s my dick.”
You don’t remember how you got so close to her. You feel almost hypnotized. She leans back against the tree trunk, legs splayed, face tilted against the rosy light, her eyes still closed. When she opens them she seems surprised to find you so close, but then a warm smile washes over her face.
“You can feel it, if you like,” she whispers.
You nod slowly. Your heart is beating fast and a tendril of sweat is snaking down your back. You reach out to touch the dildo, expecting cold metal, but instead it feels warm, almost soft, like human skin.
“Oh Charli,” JoJo whispers. You’ve never heard this voice of hers before, low and sweet, gently pleading. You feel the blood coursing through you and you grip the dildo harder, giving it one slow stroke. JoJo moans, reaching out a hand to grab your arm. She pulls you close to her, her dark brown eyes locked on yours, when-
SPLASH!
You hear shouting and the sound of people running from beyond the sunflower forest. You and JoJo break apart. She has an almost guilty look on her face.
“We should see what’s happening,” she says quickly, unstrapping the harness and placing it gently back on the tree trunk before hurriedly pulling on her jeans.
You follow her through the forest, feeling confused. When you emerge you find the rest of the group standing at the edge of the Lube River, looking towards the hole in the wall where it drains off.
“What happened?” you ask.
“Terrible pity,” sniffs Viola, “my fifth husband perished in just the same way. Well, he wasn’t exactly one of my favourites, but still.”
Jessica sighs, looking bored, and pops their headphones over their ears once again.
“Not to worry!” Kisska trills from the sidelines. “Arnold should be fine, the SAMMs will be along any second to scoop him out and get him nice and dry and on his way.”
SAMMs? Before you have a chance to ask what she means, you notice shapes moving behind a tree canopy of anal beads on the other side of the river. Old-fashioned robots, looking like something from a 1950s film, start to emerge one by one. They chatter to each other in a nonsense language and point their stiff arms towards the hole in the wall where Arnold Slick has apparently just disappeared.
“Made right here in the UK! They were originally designed by a travel company to guide people around the city, but unfortunately the lubricant that keeps them running turned out to be a very powerful aphrodisiac. People were too turned on to pay attention to the city sights! As you can imagine, I was more than happy to take them off their hands.” She beams at the robots, who are now lowering a raft into the water to retrieve Arnold Slick. “I call them my SAMMs: Seriously Arousing Mechanical Men.”
Your group watches as a small group of SAMMs clambers awkwardly into the raft and begins to row downriver. As they disappear around the bend, Kisska claps her hands, looking just as chipper as before.
“Well, accidents happen, but we won’t let us keep that from our afternoon of eroticism! Climb aboard the S.S. Kisska and we’ll head to our next stop.”
You turn to find a large, electric blue vulva boat bobbing peacefully in the lube river. At the clit — or is the helm? — a SAMM idly spins the wheel while your fellow contestants pile into the soft velvet benches nestled in the folds of the labia. Kisska climbs aboard last, giving the boat a loving pat.
“Designed after my own, of course. Swedish shipmaker. I can give you the contact info if you’re in the market.”
Diega nudges Sugar Daddy, who hurries over to take down the details. You sail down the river, headed for a tunnel. JoJo sits beside you, her leg pressed ever so slightly to yours. You chance a look at her, only to find her smiling broadly at you. She squeezes your knee and you let yourself relax — it’s not going to be weird between you.
Suddenly, you’re plunged into darkness. You’ve reached the tunnel. The first few seconds are pure blackness before flickering lights start to appear on the walls, seemingly projected from nowhere. Snippets of porn scenes fade in and out, the pictures overlapping, moans and wet slurping and the smack of skin on skin layered in an erratic cacophony. You catch fragments, a soft kiss, a line of spit between an open mouth and a pierced nipple, a pair of balls being squeezed by a strong hand.
“Submissions from my fans to the Kisska Erotic Video Database,” Kisska shouts, the sound echoing through the chamber. You glance behind her to see the profile of a woman writhing and arching her back, a profile that seems suspiciously similar to JoJo’s - or maybe she’s still lingering in the back of your mind. Viola is quietly sipping a white wine spritzer she seems to have inexplicably produced from her enormous purse while Jessica beside her is staring, mouth agape, at the porn-covered walls. Sugar Daddy keeps trying to rest a hand on Diega’s knee, which she swats away reflexively every time.
As you round the corner out of the tunnel, a door appears on your right, where your group disembarks. Kisska is practically bouncing up and down with excitement. Behind her, you can hear faint mechanical sounds, whirring and grinding and the occasional screech of metal.
“We’re about to enter one of the most important rooms in the factory — the Inventing Room.” She pats the door affectionately. “I’ve had three of my top five best orgasms in this room,” she adds dreamily.
“Cumming on the job — very unprofessional,” whispers Viola, “At my company, cumming is strictly regulated to break times.”
“Will there be another trip through the porn tunnel?” Jessica asks desperately.
Kisska ignores them both and claps her hands together.
“Follow me!”
She pushes the door open to a dizzying array of sounds. The room behind her is packed with machines that clank and whir, emitting puffs of coloured smoke and filling the air with a strange mix of smells, hot metal and florals and something sharp and salty, like sea air.
“This is where it all happens!” Kisska says, spreading her arms wide, “I remember when I was molding my first butt plugs in my great aunt’s basement and now it’s turned into all this.”
You watch as SAMMs move between machines, turning dials and making notes on tablets. Kisska motions for your group to follow her and she leads you toward a small rainbow-striped machine, her tiara occasionally bumping against the thick metal tubes that run overhead.
As you approach, you see a conveyor belt carrying a line of colourful balls with straps on either side. Jessica looks curious. Kisska gives them a push towards the belt.
“Go ahead, you can taste one!”
“Taste one?” Jessica says, their brow furrowed.
“Yes, yes, don’t be shy!” Kisska shouts.
Jessica lifts up a purple ball and licks it tentatively. They give a confused smile.
“Unsanitary,” you hear Viola sniff under her breath.
“It’s candy,” Jessica says, continuing to lick the ball.
Kisska smiles.
“Ah, it’s not just candy, my sweet sugar plum! It’s a Multi-Flavoured Everlasting Ball Gag. It never gets smaller, no matter how much saliva gets on it.”
“Oh, so like an Everlasting Gobstopper. But with straps on,” Jessica points out helpfully.
Kisska’s face darkens. “No, this is something completely different that I invented. Let’s move on.”
As she rounds the corner, you see a striking brunette in a white lab coat standing at a distance, next to a corkboard wall with several dildos sticking out of it. They carefully measure some liquid into a vial, their eyes obscured by a pair of heavy protective goggles. As they turn to nod at your group, you could swear you see them wink at you.
“Over there, you can see my most trusted assistant, Helene Le Schneidere, working on our new prototype.”
Helene dips a thin rod into the vial, holds it to the light and blows on it gently. The bubble floats towards one of the dildos, then pops over it, leaving it coated in a superthin film.
“Prophylactic bubbles!” Kisska cries, grabbing Sugar Daddy’s arm in excitement, “It feels like practically nothing’s there.”
She hustles along towards the far end of the room, closest to another set of tall doors.
“One last thing to show you, I think you’ll really like this!” she calls over her shoulder.
“What’s over there?” Diega asks, pointing at a glass door to the right.
“Through that door are our new VR headsets. I’d invite you to try them but they’re not quite ready yet, they’re still in development. Eventually you’ll be able to put it on and it will show you your innate fantasies. You won’t even need to actively direct it to do anything, it will be able to read your subconscious desires and project them back to you, in a virtual reality. We’re experimenting with partner work right now too, so one person puts the headset on and the person with the other headset on also gets projected into their fantasy too.”
The crowd gasps with interest, and you love the idea of putting something on your head and being told what your fantasy is. You always feel so vanilla when someone asks you what your biggest sexual fantasy is and you have nothing to say.
You press your nose against the glass door, with your hands either side of your face flat against the glass, and gaze at the headsets. Kisska comes up behind you and puts her hands over yours. Breathing onto your neck she says ‘I wouldn’t sweetie.’ Then she cups her hand around your ear to feign secrecy, as if this is an intimate moment just between you and her and her cupped hand excludes the rest of the group from your conversation, although they’re all about a metre away, and listening intently. “We’re still ironing out the kinks babe. Good little girls like you should stay out of there until the technology is ready for you to…receive it.” With that she walks off in the other direction, gesturing for the rest of the group to follow her.
“Come along ducklings, next I have something you can really play with.” You are ready to follow obediently at the back of the group, like the vanilla little duckling you are, when you hear a psst from behind you, and turn around to see Viola Beverly shimmying the lock to the VR room open with her Centurion American Express Card.
‘Hey kid,’ she hisses. ‘Help me with this would you?’
You hesitate. Her large handbag is falling off her shoulder as she presses her perfectly pleated pant suit leg into the door, applying just the right amount of pressure while simultaneously frigging the door violently with her very expensive piece of metal. And just like that the door pops open, and Viola giggles with the thrill of her own excellence and lights a cigarette. Her signature move after any sort of satisfaction. Viola’s designer spectacles have transition lenses in them, and now they sit low on her nose as fully transitioned cat eye sunglasses. She stealthily sneaks inside the VR room with her cigarette slightly askew, and turns back to you one more time.
"Don’t be such a fucking wimp. My company basically invented this technology back in the dot-com bubble, it’s completely harmless. And they don’t call me Shelon Musk for nothing baby, trust me, I’m very experienced. I’ll show you the ropes kid. Come on!"
As you stand on the packed train, mentally ticking off the stops before your flat, you can feel the money burning a hole in your pocket. You could really use a new work blazer (smart tops and cargo shorts are the only things you are allowed to wear in the office), but maybe this money is a sign, a sign that you should do something new.
Just then the doors open and a small group of young women in business attire get on board, chatting excitedly to each other. They cram in around you as you cling to the handrail, talking over you as if you’re not even there.
“What do you think you’ll get?” says one to her red-haired friend.
“I’m not sure! I could really use a more powerful vibrator but, well…”
“What??” another shouts eagerly in your ear.
“I’ve heard Princessy Kisska’s just come out with something new. The Kisska Scrumdiddlyhumpcious. I have no idea what it is but Jeanine in Accounting said its the MUST HAVE sex toy of the season. And haven’t you heard about the competition? We obviously have to buy something from her!”
Her friends all roll their eyes. The shortest of the group, a blonde with a high ponytail, chimes in.
“Of course we know about the competition, it’s all anyone’s been talking about! No one’s ever been allowed in her factory,” she drops her voice to a whisper, “can you even imagine what must be in there?”
“A strap-on that always fits perfectly!”
“Nipple clamps that call me a bad girl!”
“Condoms that turn you invisible!”
“A sex swing 40 stories high!”
They all collapse into laughter. You clear your throat once, and then again.
“Um...excuse me?”
They look around, surprised to find you in their midst.
“What are you talking about, what competition?”
They give you a collective look of pity. You know this look well.
Just then the doors open and a small group of young women in business attire get on board, chatting excitedly to each other. They cram in around you as you cling to the handrail, talking over you as if you’re not even there.
“What do you think you’ll get?” says one to her red-haired friend.
“I’m not sure! I could really use a more powerful vibrator but, well…”
“What??” another shouts eagerly in your ear.
“I’ve heard Princessy Kisska’s just come out with something new. The Kisska Scrumdiddlyhumpcious. I have no idea what it is but Jeanine in Accounting said its the MUST HAVE sex toy of the season. And haven’t you heard about the competition? We obviously have to buy something from her!”
Her friends all roll their eyes. The shortest of the group, a blonde with a high ponytail, chimes in.
“Of course we know about the competition, it’s all anyone’s been talking about! No one’s ever been allowed in her factory,” she drops her voice to a whisper, “can you even imagine what must be in there?”
“A strap-on that always fits perfectly!”
“Nipple clamps that call me a bad girl!”
“Condoms that turn you invisible!”
“A sex swing 40 stories high!”
They all collapse into laughter. You clear your throat once, and then again.
“Um...excuse me?”
They look around, surprised to find you in their midst.
“What are you talking about, what competition?”
They give you a collective look of pity. You know this look well.
The short blonde places a hand on your arm, “Sweetie, haven’t you heard? Princessy Kisska is finally opening up her factory to the public after who-knows-how-many years! She’s hidden five golden chokers in five sex toy boxes around the world. Four have already been found but…” she turns and smiles at the group, “there’s still one left!”
The others grin at your shocked expression. Princessy Kisska’s factory, open? You’ve heard the rumours sure, about her secret factory, her insane levels of privacy -- no Instagram even, in this day and age! A tour in her factory could be just what you need. You used to be drawn to every sexual adventure, but ever since starting your job at CargoCorp you’ve lost the energy even to touch yourself, let alone another person.
“We’re getting off here! My favourite sex shop is right around the corner,” the redhead says to the others. The group gives you a wave as they exit the train. Maybe this is another sign. The train doors start to close.
At the last minute you slip through, jumping onto the heaving platform. You shoulder past disgruntled commuters, scanning for the group from the train, but you’ve already lost them. Dejected, you slowly make your way up to street level. A watery sunset is just fading on the horizon, and the streetlamps are turning on one by one. It’s getting late...but the redhead had said the shop was just around the corner. It can’t take too long for you to find it.
A half hour later, you’re growing restless. You’ve circled the block several times, venturing further and further out, and still no sign of the shop. Maybe it’s better to cut your losses and just head back home, save this money for a rainy day. You turn onto a dark side street, and suddenly you see it. In bright neon letters “EROTIC DELIGHTS: The Candy Store for Adults” and underneath it a sign saying “We sell Kisska products”. A soft pink light is coming from within, giving an inviting glow to the display window of beautiful glass dildos.
You push open the door and a bell chimes softly. The attendant, a petite mustachioed man in a candy striper outfit, looks up from behind the counter as you come in. He smiles.
“You’re just under the wire. We’re closing up shop in 10 minutes. Can I help you find anything?”
“Um..” you look around, suddenly feeling panicked. To your left are stacks of fetish wear, to your right a shelf of butt plugs in ascending size order. You pick up the closest item, a dog collar that says “Sweet Slut” and put it down again quickly.
“Are you looking for something just for you? Or mostly to use with others?” the attendant comes out from behind the counter, smoothing his striped skirt and looking expectant.
“I guess, um, just for me. For now. I mean, I don’t know.”
“Hmm, well we just got a new product in today from Princessy Kisska. Her stuff’s really been flying off the shelves — because of the competition, you know — but I think we miiiight have one left.” He squeezes past you to slide the ladder over, climbing up to dig through the upper shelves, “Oh perhaps we’re out of…no wait! We’ve got one still. Oh and who left this up here?”
He descends the ladder awkwardly, a large box with the Princessy Kisska label tucked under each arm.
“What is it?” you ask. The boxes are both covered in glitter and sequins that catch the low light, although one’s luster is dulled by a thin coating of dust.
He brings them over to the counter and you follow. “This is her newest invention, the Kisska Scrumdiddlyhumpcious,” he says, pointing to the image on the first box. It looks like a small vibrator, all sleek chrome and pleasing curves. “So...it's a vibrator?”
“This isn’t just any vibrator!” the attendant exclaims, “It’s a hands-free, voice-activated, one-size-fits-all, self-retrieving luxury vibe, babe!”
You look blankly at him, and he sighs with impatience.
“It form fits to your body. You see this picture here?” he points at the box, “that’s just the starting form. I don’t understand how it works exactly, but it reads your body and knows what size and shape to take. And it’ll adjust, depending on where you want to use it. All you have to do is tell it where you want it to go and how you like it — fast or slow, long pulses or quick vibrations, harder, softer, et cetera. All with your hands free to take care of,” — he gestures loosely — “what have you.”
You furrow your brow.
“It seems impossible. How does it work?”
He shrugs. “That’s Kisska’s magic I guess. Making the impossible possible.” He taps the box. “And I don’t know your persuasions, but I would also point out that this is the only self-retrieving anal toy on the market.
You nod, feeling unsure. The attendant seems to notice your hesitation.
“I understand if this might be a bit intense. Luckily, I found something else up there. Practically a relic.”
He blows gently on the second box, sending up a plume of dust and sparkles that settle in his thick mustache. The image on the cover is a gorgeous multi-coloured dildo. Its different rainbow hues remind you of a popsicle dripping in the summer heat. Your mouth waters reflexively. The attendant notices.
“The very first product Kisska ever created. The Kisska Dildo, A classic, really. This is when she did her candy-inspired line.” He rolls his eyes and gestures to his own outfit. “I’m a bit over it myself.”
“What does it do?”
“Well, it goes in you, for the most part.”
“No, I mean, what functions does it have?”
“Ah yes. Quite simple this one really. Three settings: thrust, vibrate, and neutral. Slick feel. Dishwasher safe, of course. It’s really a classic, like I said. Good for any occasion.” He frowns. “It’s funny, it must have been up there a few months. The last one from the shipment we ordered just after the competition started. I guess some people don’t take inventory seriously.”
You consider the two boxes. You wish you could get them both, but either one is going to be more than the £100 you found, and you’re not exactly flush with cash at the moment.
“So, what’s it going to be?”
The others grin at your shocked expression. Princessy Kisska’s factory, open? You’ve heard the rumours sure, about her secret factory, her insane levels of privacy -- no Instagram even, in this day and age! A tour in her factory could be just what you need. You used to be drawn to every sexual adventure, but ever since starting your job at CargoCorp you’ve lost the energy even to touch yourself, let alone another person.
“We’re getting off here! My favourite sex shop is right around the corner,” the redhead says to the others. The group gives you a wave as they exit the train. Maybe this is another sign. The train doors start to close.
At the last minute you slip through, jumping onto the heaving platform. You shoulder past disgruntled commuters, scanning for the group from the train, but you’ve already lost them. Dejected, you slowly make your way up to street level. A watery sunset is just fading on the horizon, and the streetlamps are turning on one by one. It’s getting late...but the redhead had said the shop was just around the corner. It can’t take too long for you to find it.
A half hour later, you’re growing restless. You’ve circled the block several times, venturing further and further out, and still no sign of the shop. Maybe it’s better to cut your losses and just head back home, save this money for a rainy day. You turn onto a dark side street, and suddenly you see it. In bright neon letters “EROTIC DELIGHTS: The Candy Store for Adults” and underneath it a sign saying “We sell Kisska products”. A soft pink light is coming from within, giving an inviting glow to the display window of beautiful glass dildos.
You push open the door and a bell chimes softly. The attendant, a petite mustachioed man in a candy striper outfit, looks up from behind the counter as you come in. He smiles.
“You’re just under the wire. We’re closing up shop in 10 minutes. Can I help you find anything?”
“Um..” you look around, suddenly feeling panicked. To your left are stacks of fetish wear, to your right a shelf of butt plugs in ascending size order. You pick up the closest item, a dog collar that says “Sweet Slut” and put it down again quickly.
“Are you looking for something just for you? Or mostly to use with others?” the attendant comes out from behind the counter, smoothing his striped skirt and looking expectant.
“I guess, um, just for me. For now. I mean, I don’t know.”
“Hmm, well we just got a new product in today from Princessy Kisska. Her stuff’s really been flying off the shelves — because of the competition, you know — but I think we miiiight have one left.” He squeezes past you to slide the ladder over, climbing up to dig through the upper shelves, “Oh perhaps we’re out of…no wait! We’ve got one still. Oh and who left this up here?”
He descends the ladder awkwardly, a large box with the Princessy Kisska label tucked under each arm.
“What is it?” you ask. The boxes are both covered in glitter and sequins that catch the low light, although one’s luster is dulled by a thin coating of dust.
He brings them over to the counter and you follow. “This is her newest invention, the Kisska Scrumdiddlyhumpcious,” he says, pointing to the image on the first box. It looks like a small vibrator, all sleek chrome and pleasing curves. “So...it's a vibrator?”
“This isn’t just any vibrator!” the attendant exclaims, “It’s a hands-free, voice-activated, one-size-fits-all, self-retrieving luxury vibe, babe!”
You look blankly at him, and he sighs with impatience.
“It form fits to your body. You see this picture here?” he points at the box, “that’s just the starting form. I don’t understand how it works exactly, but it reads your body and knows what size and shape to take. And it’ll adjust, depending on where you want to use it. All you have to do is tell it where you want it to go and how you like it — fast or slow, long pulses or quick vibrations, harder, softer, et cetera. All with your hands free to take care of,” — he gestures loosely — “what have you.”
You furrow your brow.
“It seems impossible. How does it work?”
He shrugs. “That’s Kisska’s magic I guess. Making the impossible possible.” He taps the box. “And I don’t know your persuasions, but I would also point out that this is the only self-retrieving anal toy on the market.
You nod, feeling unsure. The attendant seems to notice your hesitation.
“I understand if this might be a bit intense. Luckily, I found something else up there. Practically a relic.”
He blows gently on the second box, sending up a plume of dust and sparkles that settle in his thick mustache. The image on the cover is a gorgeous multi-coloured dildo. Its different rainbow hues remind you of a popsicle dripping in the summer heat. Your mouth waters reflexively. The attendant notices.
“The very first product Kisska ever created. The Kisska Dildo, A classic, really. This is when she did her candy-inspired line.” He rolls his eyes and gestures to his own outfit. “I’m a bit over it myself.”
“What does it do?”
“Well, it goes in you, for the most part.”
“No, I mean, what functions does it have?”
“Ah yes. Quite simple this one really. Three settings: thrust, vibrate, and neutral. Slick feel. Dishwasher safe, of course. It’s really a classic, like I said. Good for any occasion.” He frowns. “It’s funny, it must have been up there a few months. The last one from the shipment we ordered just after the competition started. I guess some people don’t take inventory seriously.”
You consider the two boxes. You wish you could get them both, but either one is going to be more than the £100 you found, and you’re not exactly flush with cash at the moment.
“So, what’s it going to be?”