Lot Lizard Pinball

"Oh yeah, that's it, that's it!" Lucy's voice reached a fever pitch that echoed around the entire convenience store. Margot doubled over again, and could no longer concentrate hard enough to keep track of the marble as her eyes crossed.

"Unh...unh...oh fuck!" Her orgasm washed out what remained of her intelligence, her memory of whatever she'd intended to do before she walked into the store. But she didn't mind, because with it went her stress, her worries, and anything else that had ever threatened to age her prematurely.

She looked down at the board. The marble was gone.

But Lucy couldn't have sounded more pleased. "Look at you, darling! You just got the new top score! Congratulations!"

Top score...top score...

Margot smiled. Her lips, cheeks, pussy, and right hand were sopping wet, all a reward for her hard work.

Hardest she'd ever have to work again.

"Well," a man's voice spoke from behind her, "guess you liked it after all, huh?"

She turned around to see the cashier from earlier. He had a plastic card between his fingers. "Says here your name is Margot, but that don't sound too right for a brainless bimbo, do it? Got silent letters and everything."

What the hell was he talking about? She frowned. Was he gonna fuck her or something? Then why all the chit-chat?

"Whaddya say we call you Misty instead?" he asked. "I think the guys would like that better." He put the plastic card into his pocket and as soon as he did, she forgot he'd ever been holding it.

If he meant that guys would be more likely to fuck her if her name was Misty, more likely to make her perpetually-hard clit feel good, then sure, she'd be Misty for them.

When she didn't answer quick enough, the cashier reached around and grabbed her ass, hard enough to hurt. She grunted, but she liked it. She giggled a perfect imitation of Lucy's. That was another reason she wanted to play the game more and more. So she could learn to be more like Lucy, learn how to make guys look at her the way the cartoon trucker looked at Lucy.

That was how learning happened, right? Playing pinball games?

For anything important, anyway.

"Lose the sweatshirt," he said.

Misty hadn't even realized she was still wearing it, but she couldn't get it off fast enough. So fast that she got all tangled up and got her arm stuck in one of the sleeves. "Here," the cashier said, and pulled it off her in one quick move. He held it to look appraisingly at the front. Then he turned it to face her. "What's this say, darlin?"

Misty gripped the edge of the machine from behind and squinted at the scribbles. She shrugged, her eyes large and doe-like.

He chuckled. "Usually it takes a bonus ball or two for Lucy to snag us a new lot lizard, but you must've had plenty of stress waiting to be sucked outta ya, huh?"

"I dunno," she said, idly twirling a lock of hair in her index finger, which still smelled of her pussy.

"Got that brain of yours nice and," he shook his head, "ah, fuck, you know. Lazy. Like it ain't worked in years."

If Misty had still been Margot, she would have known the word was "atrophied," but Misty just bit her lip, doing her best to look sexy and slutty. She couldn't think of anything except when she'd get to play pinball again, and when this guy or some other guy was going to fuck her.

"You've got a nice enough body," he said. "We'll have to let your hair grow out, of course. We've got some clothes and makeup in the back you can wrangle up to make yourself more presentable."

"Like Lucy?" Misty asked eagerly.

He nodded with a lecherous grin. "Like Lucy. The guys would prefer you be naked, but there's only so many bribes the local fuz'll take."

She grinned back. She knew she could never be as pretty as Lucy, with her cartoon hair and boobs, but at least she'd get to try. At least she was already good at sounding like her.

"Not many girls come to us willingly these days, meaning the guys've been eager for some fresh meat, so you'll go fast and you'll go often." He grabbed her arm suddenly and turned her around to face the machine. "What's that score say?"

"4...2...9..."

"Good, so you can still do numbers. Perfect." He turned her back around. "You'll need that for counting bills the guys pay you with. Amber or someone can fill you in on the price for stuff, but most of the guys know the deal and they know not to cross me. Any time you finish with a client you'll come back in and hand the cash over to me, you got that?"

She nodded.

"Great. You're a fast learner. Pegged you from the start. And don't worry; you'll get to eat whatever you want from the store, and we've got showers and cots in back for when you need 'em."

"What about the game?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah," he winked, "when you're an extra good girl, giving our visitors an extra good time, then you'll get to play again."

"But I got...I got..." Where had Amber gone? She wanted to rub it in her dumb face. "I got the top score. Lucy said."

"Lucy said, huh?" He looked over her shoulder at the scoreboard, then chuckled. "Aw, you dumb whore. Amber wasn't talking about that game. The other girls have a little contest going, to see who can rake in the most bucks for me before the end of the month."

Misty's eyes went wide with understanding.

"You'll have a nice chance since you're bright and shiny and new, but you still got a lot of catching up to do. But you'll be a good girl and do your best, won't cha?"

"Yessir!" she said eagerly.

"Knew you would." He pinched her cheek. "Now, get yourself dolled up and get out there." He slapped her hard on the ass as she walked away.

Fifteen minutes later, she emerged in front of the store, made up as gaudily as Lucy herself, wearing a neon green tube top, fake fur jacket, and skintight leather pants. She took her place among the other girls, making sure to give Amber a pointed stare, who raised her eyebrows challengingly in response.

None of them thought it was strange that a woman who had walked into the store just minutes ago wearing a Brown University sweatshirt and absolutely no makeup was now ready to sell her body like the rest of them. Misty, of course, wasn't bothered by it at all. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

She did think it was weird that there was a car parked by one of the pumps with no sign of a driver. There was no one in the store who it might belong to. She shrugged to herself. Whatever. Trying to figure it out was making her head hurt, and it was no fun anyway.

"Hey, girlie." She blinked as she realized one of the approaching truckers was talking to her. "Whaddya say we go on back to my truck? I'd love to break you in."

She followed him without another word, and as soon as the abandoned car was out of her line of sight, she forgot it, or Margot, had ever existed.

The End