The Joy Toy
by Don Winslow
Every Tuesday we used to meet for lunch at Del’s, a little Coffeshop over on 4th Avenue. We’d always get this table in the back, and they’d let us stay. The waitresses wouldn’t hassle you, cause by the afternoon we practically had the whole place to ourselves. So we’d spend a couple of hours smoking, drinking coffee, mostly talking, you know the sort of thing agents talk about -- bookings and venues and clients we once had. That’s how it started the day Sid told us his story. For some reason we were talking about the strangest acts we had ever seen. As you probably know, with these guys, everyone had a story to tell: funny animal acts, bad ventriloquists, amazing contortionists, that sort of thing.
As we go around the table, I notice that Sid seemed to be getting kinda antsy. At that time, Sid had an interesting side line -- what he called his “specialty acts.” He made good money supplying so-called exotic dancers for strip clubs, and from what I heard , made a very tidy bundle indeed representing the talent for X-rated films, and God knows what else he did on the shadier side of the business. Like all of us, Sid was a pretty talkative guy, but today I noticed he was kind of quiet, staring at his cup and running his fingers over the rim, as if he was lost in thought. Then it was his turn, and he blurted it out. It was like he couldn't hold it in any more. He had something...something he had wanted to tell us, to tell someone. It ended up that for years he hadn’t told a soul about this one act; sure no one would believe him. But now he was growing more and more fidgety, as though suddenly eager to let it all out. Once he started, the guy never stopped. And he held us there, fascinated; no one interrupted. Except for sipping coffee, or lighting a cigar, no one even moved.
"You guys know that in our business, you see just about everything, at one time or another. But let me tell you about an act you wouldn't believe. I'm not sure I believe it myself. It's got to be the weirdest act that ever walked into my office...or anybody's office. I never told you guys about it before. You'd think I was crazy. But what the hell, so now I'm retired from the business; who cares what people think?
One day this guy shows up at my office with this drop-dead, gorgeous blonde at his side. This babe's a knock-out: long and slinky, with small, sexy tits, low-slung hips, and dynamite legs that seem to go on forever. This guy she was with her is a nothing, a nebbish: short and skinny; with glasses, almost bald, not much to look at, just like a million other guys. But this girl,...she's got all the right stuff and it’s perfectly packaged: what you might call the classic model type; high cheekbones, wide, pouty lips, and big blue eyes, all framed by silvery blond hair, long and silky that hangs straight down to her shoulders. And she is one long drink of water. In her heels, she towers over the guy who’s standing next to her by maybe six inches; and every inch of her is snugly packed into this little black dress, you know the kind, one of those tight dresses with a scooped neckline that gives you an eyeful of her loose tits; and is so short that it barely covers her crotch. I'm already getting a hardon, the minute they walk in the door, and I have to get behind my desk and sit down real quick. The guy introduces the tall blonde as Alissia; his name is Nathan.
The two of them sit down across from me, and I notice he gives her a look and kind of nods, and she hikes up her skirt and crosses those dynamite legs of hers. She's wearing silky black nylons, real stockings, not pantyhose. I can tell they're the real thing, because I can see a sliver of white thigh peeking out at me from under that skirt, the way it angles down when she crosses her legs. I can't take my eyes off those long gorgeous legs of hers; that sexy dress she's wearing has ridden up practically into her lap, giving me a lot to look at.
This girl doesn't say much, in fact she doesn't say a word; he does all the talking. She just sits there with her dress rucked up her legs, avoiding my eyes, and looking decidedly nervous and uncomfortable about making this visit. But here's the thing. Any other woman, sitting down in one of those tight minidresses, would go right for the hem, pulling the skirt down to cover herself, but this girl, she squirms a little in her seat, as though she's embarrassed by it all; but she doesn't make a move to straighten things out. She just sits there, showing me those beautiful legs of hers.
That's weird enough, but here's the really weird part. And this, you won't believe. This guy's got a story, and it's some story, let me tell you! He tells me how this pretty girl is crazy about him, will do anything for him, anything he wants! ‘Isn’t that right?’ he asks her. She doesn’t look at him, sits looking down at the floor, but she nods. Now he’s gonna show me his little secret. He opens this briefcase he's got with him, and takes out this gadget with knobs and buttons, and a little antenna. Not much bigger than a cigarette package, it looks like one of those small portable radios. Then he takes out some kinda plastic egg, and shows it to me. He puts it on my desk; lets me a look at it. I have to tear my eyes away from the black nylon of a slowly swinging leg, long enough to pick the egg up and give it a good look.
It's cream-colored, a little smaller than an ordinary egg, and not as hard and smooth. It's porous, he tells me, and there's some kind of secret formula inside. I know that sounds nuts, but wait, here's the kicker. He calls it his 'joy toy'. Women love it. In fact, they go crazy over it! Once they've used it, it's like a drug; they get practically addicted to it, he tells me. All a girl has to do is shove it up her snatch, like a tampon, or some weird dildo, and when its activated she feels a rush of the most fantastic pleasure coursing up through her body. He wants me to believe he can turn a girl on... just by pressing the right button. I look at the girl beside him, who's sitting with her head bowed, and I can tell that under that pretty blond hair, she's turning three shades of red.
This guy Nathan goes on to explain to me that this blonde's actually wearing one of his 'toys' at this very moment. In fact, she's sitting there with one of the things stuffed up her cunt! It's kept in place up there by a kind of belt she wears, one with a strap that comes down to run between her legs. If I'd like to see, he'd be glad to have her show it to me.
At first, I'm wondering if this guy's nuts, but now I'm starting to wonder if he's pulling some scam to get me in trouble, sue me for sexual harassment or something, and maybe I should give him the old heave ho before things get out of hand. Then he asks me to if I’d like to see a little demonstration. And before I can stop him, he presses a button on the gizmo in his hands. Instantly, the blonde jerks up in her chair like she's been electrified. She gives a shake to that long blond hair, clenches her teeth, tightens her grip on the arms of the chair, and rears up and back in her seat. He stabs the button again. The girl’s eyes are shut tight, and her lips fall open, and she comes out with this low, breathy moan. You know the kind of moan I mean. When you get a broad moaning like that, you know it means one thing -- she wants it, and she wants it bad!
I'm sitting there, totally amazed, when Nathan turns down the volume or something, and the girl instantly collapses right back into her chair. Now we have this leggy blonde sprawled out, limp as a wet noodle, and panting like racehorse after the last heat. Her eyes are still closed, but now she's got this little smile plastered on her lips; a kind of silly, happy smile.
By now, I'm speechless...me, can you imagine! Meanwhile, Nathan's acting real casual, like this is no big deal. He knows I probably don't believe him. Maybe I'd like to see the way this girl Alissia wears her little toy, he asks me, kind of coy like. And by the way, he adds, she's not wearing any panties. He says this like he's discussing the weather. If I want, he'll have her lift her dress and show me. If I want! At that point I would have sold my mother for a good look up this delicious doll's dress! The man has definitely got my undivided attention.
Now it turns out that Alissia is actually a little shy about showing herself off like this. To be honest, she hates it, he tells me. But she'll do it. She'll do whatever he says. He's talking about the blonde as though she's not even there, and maybe that's not so far from the truth. Right now this chick looks like she's floating off in never-never land, only gradually coming down to earth. He goes on to say that normally, a girl like Alissia wouldn't be caught dead, dressing the way she does, flaunting it like some sexy whore, strutting around in that revealing minidress and those five-inch 'fuck me' heels. It's just that she loves having that toy up her cunt so damn much; she'll do anything for that little jolt of pleasure that he, and he alone, can provide...whenever he feels like it. You see, he's the only one that's got the code you need before you can activate a joy toy. So he's the one she's got to please. She's really got no choice.
Now he orders the girl to stand up in front of my desk. Without a word, she gathers herself together and obeys, getting to her feet, rising slowly to her full height in those tall heels. This beautiful babe stands before me, hands at her sides, blond head hung low, like a schoolgirl caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She's got her eyes fixed on the carpet; she won't look at me if she can help it. Nathan gives me a sly wink.
'Alissia, lift up your dress, Honey,' he tells her, casual as can be, like it’s no big deal.
She stands there, holding herself kind of stiff, but she doesn't move a muscle. I'm waiting. You could hear a pin drop. I'm starting to think that maybe this thing doesn't work after all. Then I see Nathan's thumb slide across to the red button, and a short quick flick of that thumb tells me he just sent a jolt of pleasure racing through the girl's body. It's a short, mild jolt. I watch her straighten up; the ripple of pleasure seems to shoot up her spine and go out through her shoulders, as they give a little wiggle, and she breaks out into a big smile.
Immediately, her hands grab the hem of her dress, and she's bunching it up and hauling it up her legs, uncovering the splendid lengths of those long, mouth-watering thighs, nylon-encased right up to the wide topbands with their fancy lace embroidery. And she doesn't stop once the dress is over the top of her stockings. She knows he wants her to show me her cunt, and by now she wants only one thing ... to please her man. She'll do whatever she’s told, expose herself in some stranger’s office, or stand on her head, or do jumping jacks, or whatever else it takes.
I watch her gather up handfuls of the slippery black material and hike the dress up to her waist to hold it there, showing us the prettiest little blond pussy you've ever laid eyes on. There's just a light dusting of pale blond fuzz on her cunt: a narrow triangle, divided by a thin leather strap, that presses a little into the soft flesh of her pubis as it is drawn up between her legs. I can see it's hanging straight down from a snug belt she wears just above her hips, and it must be attached up in back too, as it’s pulled up tight into her crotch. I look to her face, fascinated by her reactions. The blonde's got her eyes closed, long lashes lowered. She's embarrassed to be showing herself like this, I guess; she's digging her nails into her palms, the knuckles of her clenched hands are white. As I'm watching that pretty blond face, I see her wince, and then she exhales a long shivering breath. She squirms in place, hips and body writhing in a wiggle of sensuous delight. I knew that she just been given another jolt of pure pleasure from the little toy buried in her snatch, delivered by the guy that owns her, body and soul.
'Turn around; let’s see the back,' he says.
And this gorgeous blonde obeys like she was some kind of a pretty robot, dropping her dress, turning in place, then promptly hitching the dress up in back to offer me a nice view of the back of her sleek, stockinged legs, heels set close together; beyond the banded stockings, the white flesh of those heavenly thighs and her splendidly naked ass -- all openly displayed, just for me!
It was all so unbelievable! There was this classy broad, calmly showing me her bare butt: a perfect ass, tight cheeks and high-set -- not too big, but neatly proportioned. You know the kind. The kind you want to grab a hold of, or lick it, or spank it, or fuck it,...to do something to it. Nathan must have read my mind.
'Go ahead, be my guest. You want to touch her, don’t you? he asks, inviting me like some gracious host inviting me to sample a particularly tasty dish. He knew I was dying to get my hands on that saucy little ass.
Believe me, I don't need a second invitation. I get up, scramble around the desk and reach for her. My hands are actually shaking, but I restrain myself and just use my fingertips to trace up those smooth satiny cheeks. Then I feel up that perfect bottom of hers, while she never moves a muscles but just stands three, holding up her dress, and letting me do whatever I want. Guys, it was incredible! I couldn't stop myself. I wanted more. I look over to Nathan, but he just smiled and nodded.
So I use both hands, cupping her cute little butt, letting those plump cheeks nicely fill my cupped hands. I squeeze and savor the solid feel of the blonde's behind, kneading her plump mounds, while the girl, holding her dress up, shifts her weight from foot to foot, but otherwise stays in place, keeping the pose he put her in. All of sudden she surprises me by jerking upright, electrified by a powerful surge that thrills her to the core. Immediately, she bends over, arching her back and shoving that rump of hers right back, thrusting it into my hands, and she wiggles her butt all around, arching up like a big cat in heat.
I glance over just in time to see Nathan stab the button -- again, and again; the girl goes berserk. She shoots upright, her shoulders twisting, as the surge of pure pleasure rockets through her long, swaying body. She shudders and shakes her hair like a wild woman; and then she moans, a low shivering moan, but before she can recover, he hits her again, and that one drives her to her knees. The blonde is kneeling on my office floor, bent over, holding herself, struggling for breath, when she gets whacked a third time. In a flash, she shoots straight up and cranes back, kneeling with thighs spread out as much as that bunched up dress would allow, teeth clenched against the erupting surge of unbelievable, ecstatic pleasure that crazy Nathan forces her to endure. She gives out with a screech like banshee; both hands fly down to grab her crotch and she holds herself there, clutching her cunt hard, squeezing urgently, with fingers curled up and buried deep in her crotch. Her shoulders are heaving and she’s panting through her open mouth, like she just ran the 440. I can't move, struck speechless by the hot sight of this hot blonde driven crazy with lust and writhing out-of-control on my carpet.
Now this sex-crazed blonde is rubbing herself off, furiously palming her cunt, and all the while making this high-pitched keening noise. Her hips start bucking. Suddenly, she looses all control, falls over, rolls on her side and lays squirming there on the rug, dress twisted up around her waist, glamorous, stockinged legs scissoring wildly. She rolls over onto her belly, and her hips start rocking again, deeper now, in strong pelvic thrusts. She got both hands jammed down between her legs, her thighs clenching, while she rubs furiously till she starts to shake and tremble like she's having some kind of convulsion. And right there before my eyes, that girl gets off, let’s out a screech and has a major orgasm! I know it sounds crazy, but I watched that gorgeous blonde moaning and coming on the carpet right in front of my desk."
Copyright 1998, Don Winslow. Readers who wish to find out more about Nathan's little joy toys, and the women who love them, are invited to follow their adventures in: Captive Women, Published by Blue Moon Books, June 1999. More erotic stories may be found at http://www.asstr.org/~Don_Winslow