Tales of a Smut Slinger

Phallus Frenzy

Portland, OR Summer of 2005

 

I’m surrounded by cocks.

 

Literally.

 

I’m on my knees, sweating in this poorly lit room, hands working in a frenzy. Just forty-five minutes more of this and you can go home and crack open a tall boy of PBR, I tell myself. That should get this awful taste out of my mouth. I give myself a mental shake and attempt to get my head back in the game. The lights flicker and I furrow my brow in agitation.

 

Seriously? How’s a girl supposed to work in these conditions? It’s hotter than sin back here and I can barely see a thing. One of these suckers is going to fly out of my hand and put my eye out! I envision myself in an eye patch and snort. The look I am given clearly says, “what the hell?” I ignore it.

 

The stench in this room is overwhelming, yet I push through it to finish my task. I’m exhausted by this point and it’s obvious. I’ve been at this for the last nine hours, and the enthusiasm with which I started my work day has long since faded. I got screwed out of my lunch break and I’m alarmed to notice I’m shaking a bit and it’s not due to incredible pleasure. I guess the protein I got earlier just wasn’t enough…go figure. The door swings open and I’m hit with a gust of cool air and the sounds of Peaches’ Fuck the Pain Away. The breeze feels incredible on my overheated skin and I let out a sigh.

 

“Alright, let’s wrap this up and head out for the day. I can’t take much more of this,” Dan says.

 

He’s only been here for three hours and all he’s done is walk around, barking orders at us. Orders that, honestly, make no sense. How the fuck did he get this job? Oh, that’s right…nepotism. Boinking the owner’s daughter obviously has its perks. It’s clear to the rest of us that Dan is a chest hair celebrating, gold chain wearing asshat who enjoys the sound of his own voice too much. He met the company owner’s daughter on the set of some cheesy disco bush porn in the mid-eighties and has been harassing lowly grunt workers, such as myself, ever since.

 

Sighing out of both frustration and relief, I toss the King Dong suction cup dildo down onto its rightful pile. My coworker and friend, B, glances over at me and smirks. Dick.

 

“What’s wrong, Bitsy? Got your hands full? Had a long, hard day?” He chuckles at his own penis puns.

 

“B…I love you, I do. But if you call me Bitsy one more time, I will gouge your fucking eyeball out with that new anal speculum in the case up front,” I tell him.

 

He winces slightly as I smile a crazy little smile. We work together to compile our inventory lists and sign off on them, checking behind the other. After a quick high five we exit the back room arm in arm, almost running right into Carlos, one of the janitors. I clue him in to the faulty air unit and the light bulbs that need replacing and he promises on get right on it. I give him a “good game” ass pat and continue on the way to freedom.

 

We’re so close to clocking out and grabbing those PBR tall boys I can almost taste it. That is until one of our regular customers stops to beg for us to impart our knowledge of his nasty little habit to our new coworker. She’s been here two days and half the time she looks close to tears. It probably doesn’t help when B and I run that one video of the guy taking two fists and a foot up his ass on loop behind the front counter.

 

Oh well, nothing phases us anymore.

 

I digress. This customer is a fan of amyl nitrite “poppers”. They smell fucking awful (that’s what caused the stench in the back room…a whole case exploded in the mini fridge) and cause terrible headaches, but apparently it makes his time in the glory hole seem that much more well… glorious. I quickly run through this information, including his favorite brands and clock out right before B and I are asked anything else. We grab our bags and our porn we’ve rented for our days off and hightail it out of the back exit.

 

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck. Please tell me your girlfriend is staying away tonight,” I pleaded.

 

Lisa’s a bitch who despises me for…actually I have no idea what her issue is with me. She hates the porn industry with a passion. Some sort of belief that every female involved in the business has some daddy issues or some such shit. I think she needs to fuck off, but what do I know?

 

“Yea, she’s at her place for the next few days.”

 

Oh thank fuck! I light up a smoke and step away from my friend. He’s sensitive about these things. Heaven forbid I smoke near him. The secondhand smoke may kill him off before his love for nitrous oxide whip-its do. Walking up the last few stairs to his studio apartment, I stub out my smoke and toss it in the cat shaped bin he leaves out for me. I haven’t made it completely through the door when I hear the DVD menu music for I :heart: Big Toys #8 playing and the distinct sound of two tall boys being cracked. This would be a good night.

 

 

Whisky Dick

Portland, OR Autumn of 2005

 

“Uh, Bitsy…what are you doing?”

“What does it look like, B?  I’m reorganizing the lube case.  We got a few new brands, and I want them front and center, you silly fucker.”

“No…no, I mean…I know that you’re fixing that up, but I was wondering more about the huge, sparkly red cock you’re…wearing.”

“Oh, you like it?”  I stood up and attempted to helicopter the massive dildo without knocking myself over.

“Uhh…”

“Yes? Is that a yes?  I think it looks great!  Look, it even matches my lipstick!”  I was really proud of myself.  It took a long time to get the right shade of red lipstick and then painstakingly glue glitter to my lips.  Now they looked like Dorothy’s slippers.

“Uhh…” Apparently speaking was not B’s strong suit today.  I walked over to him and planted my hands on my hips.  I was just about to question him on what he thought of my sweet dick, but I heard someone tap on the case that contained all of the Phallix blown glass dildos.  I loved selling these babies.  Not only were they beautiful, but they were so sanitary and they cost a shit ton of money.

“See anything you like?  If you have any questions about those pieces, feel free to ask me.  I have a lot of experience with those,” I told the couple that were perusing the hand blown works of art.  They smiled at me and started to look back at the case when they caught sight of my bobbing boner.  I watched their eyes widen and smiled.  They quickly looked back to the case, and I was a little bummed.  I mean, if they were going to look at my cock like that, doesn’t general courtesy demand you compliment it…or something?  Oh, well.

“One of the best things about these toys right here, is that they are made from medical grade borosilicate glass.  Basically that means that they are the most sanitary toys out there.  You can even stick it in the dishwasher when you’re done with it.  Freezer or boiling water for temperature play with no worries.  You could probably bludgeon a home intruder to death with no concern for breaking your Phallix.  I mean, I don’t recommend that, obviously.  That would be a little awkward next time you went to use it, but what I was getting at is that it’s incredibly strong.  You know your Pyrex baking dishes?  Yea, that’s borosilicate glass as well.”  I continued my spiel and they made their choices.  Lucky me, they bought two.  That always looks good on the sales reports.  I may not make commission at this store, but I had my pride to think of.  Today was just getting better and better.

“So, now that we’re alone again, what do you think of my cock, B?”  He just turned to me and sighed.

“It’s really…big…and red.”  He gives me a big, fake ass smile and two thumbs up.  I scowl and tell him where to shove those thumbs.  It’s not my fault he’s jealous of my dick.

“Seriously, though.  Isn’t it getting in the way, Bitsy?  I mean, how are you not knocking shit down with it?”

“Uh, B, should you be used to this issue?  How do you work every day without knocking things down with your peen?”  Seriously?  He asks me this?  I’ve never seen his, and don’t have the desire to, either, but his question has me concerned.

“No.  I do not have that issue.  First off, my cock is not almost a foot long and secondly, I wear pants.  Even if I did walk around with a boner of that magnitude, it would be contained in said pants.  Why are you even wearing your strap-on right now?”

“Why aren’t you wearing a strap-on right now?” Ask silly questions and I answer you with silly questions.  I have no time for this, I have lube to harmonize.  As I start to walk back to the case I catch B’s thunderstruck face. “Your face is going to stick like that, you know.”

“I am just dumbfounded by you sometimes.  You make my brain hurt.”

“Is that a compliment?” He makes me smile.

“Not particularly.  So, any new flavored lube?”  Of course this is what he asks.  His girlfriend has a strange obsession with fruit flavored fellatio.

“Yea, there’s apparently a whole line of cocktail flavors.  Hmm…here they are.  We’ve got ‘Cumming Cosmopolitan’, ‘Mai Tai Me Up’, and ‘Sex on the Beach’, look they didn’t have to alter that one at all!  The rest get progressively worse.  They should make a whisky flavored one and call it Whisky Dick.  I’d buy that.”  I would, too.  Hilarious and quite possibly delicious.

“Are you opening one of each as a tester?” Smart boy.  Some of these taste fucking horrible.  We tried one once that was supposedly ‘vanilla’.  We thought, vanilla is one of the least offensive flavors, right?  WRONG!  It tasted like a vanilla milkshake made with chunky, rotten milk.  So foul.

“Yea, I was going to wait until I’d finished, but if you let me know which you’re interested in I’ll hop on that now, I suppose.  So, choose wisely.”  I bet they all taste like shit.  Although, I don’t like those types of drinks for the most part.

“Hit me with the ‘Mai Tai Me Up’.  Those are Lisa’s favorites.  Maybe she’ll like this one.  Apparently she’s bored of all of the Good Head flavors, and apparently giving head without lube is a no-no.”

“I don’t get it.  If I wanted fruit, I’d eat a piece. If I wanted a drink, I’d mix one up and enjoy one. If I’m giving head, obviously I want to taste cock. Just tell her to assume the position and get the fuck over it.  I bet she is offended if you try to use flavored lube on her when you go down. Right?”  Hypocritical bitch.

“…yea.  But most of those flavors are gross anyway, so it doesn’t matter much.”

“It’s only good manners to treat someone how you’d like to be treated.  Like oral sex without faux flavoring.  Just saying…”

 

Soggy Kitty

Portland, OR   Winter 2006

 

“I love watching you suffer through this.  It makes no sense.  Is it really worth it?”

“Fuck you.”

“I mean, honestly.  You look ridiculous.  Are you a masochist? Oh wait, I already knew that.  But, seriously?”

“Fuck you, B.”  He’s really starting to piss me off.  I’d love to punch him straight in the throat…repeatedly.

“It’s nice and toasty in here.  I’d say it smells better, but we both know that I’d be lying.  At least I can feel my fingers, though,” he taunts.

Did I mention how much I’d love to punch him?  Too bad I can barely bend my arm to lift my smoke to my mouth with how bundled up I am.  I just scowl at him, but it’s unclear as to whether he can actually see it or not.  It may seem ridiculous to him that I put on fifteen layers to come out here and attempt to enjoy my five minute smoke break per hour, but I need it when dealing with the fuckery that abounds in this place.

“Come on Stay-Puft.  Let’s get you inside.”  He tugs on my arm and I just barely manage to hit the ashtray with my flying cigarette butt.  As the door closes and we near the emergency exit for the jack shacks, I hear a noise.  Not just any sound, but one that immediately sets my neck hair on end.  It’s one of those noises that signifies impending doom.  My feet stop moving forward and both B and I stumble, as he’s still holding on to me.

“What the hell, Bitsy? We need to get back to the counter before some shady fuckers come and steal all of our poppers and Extenze packets.”

“B, it is 3am.  There is no one in the store right now, and I heard something.  Something creepy,” I mutter.  I give him the big, watery “save me” eyes, and he hesitates.

“What did you hear?  As you said, no one is in the store with us.” Now he’s starting to look a little twitchy.  I don’t blame him, though.  I don’t want to deal with some scary ass porn store ghost, either.

“It was this eerie, wheezing type sound. It almost sounded like a tiny Darth Vader with emphysema, but,” I was interrupted by another noise.  This one was slightly louder, and I watched B’s eyes widen. “You heard it, didn’t you?”

“Uh-huh.  What the fuck was that?!” B looked terrified at this point. He raised his hand and pointed towards the potted plants that partially blocked the arcade’s emergency exit.  The overgrown…shrub…thing rustled and we clasped hands.

“We’re going to die, aren’t we? I’m too pretty to die, here, B,” I whimpered.  This was not how I was supposed to go out.  I was trembling by this point and I thought I might wet my pants, which would be both gross and eventually cold.  I didn’t have a chance to contemplate pissy-pants anymore because at that moment this grey, sopping wet creature stumbled out of the foliage.

“Ugh!  What is that abomination?!  Seriously, what the fuck is that?” B’s face was expressing his thorough disgust with the tiny beast.

“Oh!  Um, is that…it is.  That’s by far the most hideous cat I’ve ever seen.”  That was a true statement.  This…cat…was small and grey-ish with large, bug-like eyes and a face so flat is was damn near concave.  The animal was not only wet from the freezing rain outdoors, but around its mouth and nose was slick with mucus.  I slowly loosened my grip on B’s hand and stepped towards the unsightly little thing.  “Here ugly, ugly, ugly.  Come here, you foul little feline, you,” I called to the soaked cat.

“NO!  No, no, nope.  Do not…WHY would you call that thing over towards us?  What are you thinking, Bitsy,” B questioned me.

“It’s so ugly it’s cute, B!” I squealed.  Oops, the kitty didn’t seem to like that.  I took a moment to shed some of my protective layers and pushed them into B’s arms.  “Sorry, sweet heinous kitty.  Come here, sweetie,” I cooed as I knelt down, gently rapping my fingers against the ground.  The cat inched its way towards me as B inched his way backwards.  Pussy.  Finally I was able to scoop the drenched critter into my arms.  I pulled the cat close to my body, then flipped it to its back, checking to see what sex it was.  Girl.  Righting her in my arms, I stroked the top of her head.

“What the fuck is that noise?  Ugh, it’s disgusting!  What is it doing,” B asked.

“I think she’s purring…kind of.  Listen, she’s obviously sick and is doing the best she can.  I’ll take her home with me, tonight and go and get her checked out in the morning,” I reasoned with him.

“Okay, A it is the morning, and B I can’t believe you are touching that thing!  You’re going to get some sort of super AIDs or something just from touching it.  If you’re going to keep it with you, you should probably get yourself checked after you hit the vet.”  I was really glad to see that B wasn’t overreacting at all.

“Yea, I’ll make sure to do that.  Listen, we get off in thirty minutes and we need to start closing out the till and putting returns away.  Which do you want,” I asked him.  He didn’t respond right away, so I looked up to see him holding back laughter.  “What?!”

“You said we’re getting off in thirty minutes,” he gasped out before guffawing at his own joke.

I shot him a bitch brow before turning and walking towards the restroom to blow dry my kitty.  I was instantly glad that I had kept that little gem to myself and hadn’t said it out loud.  That I would have never lived down.  I could still hear his chuckles as the door closed behind us.

“Oh, poor, sweet, hideous little thing.  You need a name, don’t you,” I spoke to the beast as she tried to rip my arms to shreds.  Apparently the sound of the hand dryer wasn’t soothing. I dried her off the best I could while still keeping my skin intact, and left the restroom.

“It looks slightly less offensive, now, so…there’s that,” B said from behind the counter.  “Hopefully you’ll have better luck getting the guys to accept it.”

I stopped instantly.  Shit!  He was right.  I lived in an apartment with my current beau and two of our male friends, and they already put up with my two cats.  I wasn’t sure how they would respond to another cat being brought home.  No, that’s a lie.  They would be pissed, especially with this one being sick and just plain ugly.

“They’ll get over it, B, I’m sure of it.” I wasn’t sure of it.  “It won’t be that bad.” It was going to be horrible.  They would throw an epic bitch fit.  Oh, well.  Fuck ‘em.  B shrugged and I carried on and set the little beast behind the counter while I closed out the till.  A few moments later I heard a rustling sound and looked over to see the cat playing in my bag.  I had no worries as she couldn’t possibly ruin anything I carried to work.

“What’s it doing, Bitsy?”  B had apparently snuck up behind me.  I elbowed him in his gut and turned to look at the cat again.

“She’s just playing in my bag, B.  No worries,” I told him.

We finished up closing out and explaining the cat to our coworkers who had stumbled in…five minutes late.  I went to collect my bag and the cat when I saw her backing away, something glinting in her mouth.  I kneeled down and called out to her, but she wouldn’t come to me.  I guess it wasn’t that strange, considering we’d just found her, but I needed to go home, and wasn’t in the mood for some persnickety cat shit.  I stood up again, and walked towards her when she started growling.  Oh, hell no.

“Is that…is it growling at you,” B asked.

“My, you are quite astute, aren’t you?” He flipped me off and continued to watch the cat growl.

“Fuck it,” I said and continued on towards the pissed off pussy.

Her growling became louder, but I honestly didn’t give a shit.  I scooped her up and flipped her onto her back.  She had one of my rings in between her teeth, and she didn’t look the least inclined to let go of it.  I tried to pry it gently from her mouth, but that didn’t seem to be happening.  Her growl subsided mostly, unless I tried to get my ring back.  Little bitch.

“I figured out what I’m going to call her, B,” I said.

“Oh, yea?  What’s that?”

“Smeagol.”

 

 

 

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MissLethalLover

I sometimes write things.

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