Pearl

N.B.: No toy depicted actually exists. Do not attempt.

------

GIRL A

This much has always been true: The moment of desire can come at the worst time.

The objects of that desire can be people, known or strangers--these are the easiest to resist, I mean what if he doesn't want me? He doesn't even know me--but much more insidious was the basest sort of lust, that for a disembodied sensation, the one minute stand for me, myself and I.

This time, the girl was jogging to work when the light turned green at the crosswalk. Green light... Light? She turned red as she looked down and remembered: between her thighs, installed beneath her shaven pubic mound, the thing would flash a blue light when it was paired, bright enough to shine through her Lycra shorts and let everyone around know she had the new implant. She gulped. She was having a Pavlovian response to a fucking traffic light, but she couldn't help herself--oh God, the thought of being watched by everybody while she pissed her tight little running shorts--she had to breathe through her nose to keep from moaning as she crossed the street.

But of course, there was no way it could pair right now; she'd been better than that. This week, the girl had a plan: she was going to be Productive.

On Sunday evening, she'd let the battery run down on purpose. There was a mode you could activate where it ran DC through the coil and it just sort of acted as a belly warmer; 10 minutes of this operation would kill it. She knew this because she wrote the firmware herself. Yes, this clever girl had had a hand in creating the device that turned her Bullet Journal-keeping brain to mush every time she used it--appointments missed, habits neglected--and she'd be bombarded with giggling reminders of it the moment she reached the office, all those girls high on their own supply, running off for suspiciously frequent bathroom breaks and naps. But today, she'd be the the saint among those freaks. She was going to stay clean for a whole week. Not one meeting cancelled!

Speaking of which, wasn't there a really early call Tuesday morning? She fished around in her fanny pack and pulled out her phone. Now where was--

"A-Ah!" Her heart sank as she noticed the toast notification that said "Device connected: Oyster for Pearl (1%)," followed by her hips thrusting forward automatically in response to a shrill jolt within her own female friend and enemy, her clitoris. Peering between her fingers she saw the blue light telling on her, shining through her shorts like an evil eye. Oh god... Even people who knew nothing about the Pearl could tell that a light in a girl's panties was no chastity belt. Cupping the fat there with her palm only sent a warmth through her hips that made her more acutely aware of the implant's controls opening automatically on her phone, that empty grid tempting her to start it.

"N-No..." she whimpered--she felt her legs weaken at how easy it would be to get lost in this world. But the rational part of her said if she wanted to keep her job and not humiliate herself in public, she needed to get to the office, and fast. The girl started to run, but every step made her feel more aware of the space her body occupied, that part of her thighs that rubbed when she ran. How her cute cropped jersey was warm, too warm for this weather, and everything below felt frigid and vulnerable. She felt their eyes on her butt, their eyes following the sway of her hips.

She stopped at the building entrance and leaned against the wall, gasping for air in an attempt to calm herself down. It wasn't working. How the hell did it pair after she'd run down the battery?! A vague memory surfaced of her mentor explaining: 'a battery is like a rubber bucket...' Sometimes it had one last hurrah in it after it seemingly draining flat, but if that was the case, there was at most a minute of operation left. With any other toy that would've been a disappointment, but here the idea of even one minute at full power was intoxicating. She knew she could just turn it off, but then what? If she went into work feeling like this, everybody would just tease her until she actually used it.

"Just once," she told herself. "Just once, I'm going to do it at work."

The girl took the stairs two steps at a time, holding onto the railing with both hands and trying not to think about how much sweat was running down between her legs. The stairwell was empty; she reached the landing without incident--and as she turned towards the office door, she saw that the light in her shorts was still blinking. She couldn't help but rub herself now through the fabric of her shorts, well aware that the others were watching her and saying 'told you so.'

It was too late to go back. She pushed open the door and stepped inside a repurposed office they called the Melt Room. It was really just a bunch of beanbags separated by partitions for privacy, with a changing room on the side; the idea being that anyone unfortunate enough to be testing the implant could run face first onto a beanbag and just sink into it with the thing on high.

Girl A, for all her resistance, catapulted herself towards the nearest bag like a salmon swimming upstream, her thighs spread wide with the light blinking for all to see, and with nervous fingers swiped the controls up to the limit. The implant in her pubic mound obeyed, playing her clit like a harp. She was barely settled in before she felt it: an orgasm unlike anything she'd ever experienced, one that made her feel like she might faint from the intensity of pleasure.

The girl lay there panting, her whole body alive with sensation: the flood between her legs, the warm cushion deforming around her body, the weight of her breasts and hips cradled by the softness beneath her. It was too much, it was going to break her. She could hardly breathe! She moaned softly as she sank into the softness of the beanbag, feeling her body surrendering to it completely. Oh no, oh shit, oh fuck--she didn't want to do this! The other girls were watching!

But there was no turning back now--the implant had taken over her brain and she couldn't stop herself from sliding her hand down between her legs, cupping her sex through her panties, the wetness seeping out under her fingertips. The feeling was so intense that she forgot to breathe, forgot she was still wearing her shorts as the warm wet front spread through them, forgot everything but her body floating in the world of the cushion with her clit at its center, her pampered sex melting like an ice cube. It was only one minute, but by the end of it she didn't even know her own name.

------

ZOE

Some days it was hard for Zoe to look at her girlfriend's house, but they didn't exactly have a spare.

Kate's mom had inherited a clapboard gablefront on a hill covered in gnarled old trees in sight of the coast, which these days was usually grey and rumbling as the Western Seaboard lost what tenderness it once had. The front yard was still shaved and hydrated but the same couldn't be said for the neighbors, who'd stopped trimming their lawns months ago and put them up for sale instead. House prices out here had utterly crashed, with some lots going for less than a used Civic, a situation that would've seemed insane when the two of them were in highschool. Back then, everyone thought the Permastorm wouldn't move past NorCal. What actually happened was the course of the storm crept further north every year until it grazed the belly of Washington State: around the time when what you'd call 'rational actors' started cashing out. But even knowing all this her mom hadn't listed the place; some combination of sentimental value and procrastination kept her tied to a childhood home that wouldn't be around for much longer.

"Does your mom at least know we're fucking?" Zoe asked Kate one night while they lay curled together under a blanket on the couch, the TV turned to a channel that showed nothing but ads, so many classifieds blending into each other like white noise. "I mean, I'd bet money she knows. My mom figured it out and we never even did it at her place."

"Never told her," Kate admitted with a sigh. "I don't think she has a clue, because if she did, I'd never hear the end of it. We'd be hearing her thoughts about it right now."

"W-Well... I guess she is kinda old-fashioned about stuff like that." Zoe hazarded a glance towards the kitchen where the mother in question was. "Y-You should tell her eventually. It'll make you both of you feel better after it's done."

Kate shook her head. "I don't want to deal with that kind of drama right now--maybe when we're out of college. I wanna be able to hold on to you if things get rough. Put food in that big tummy of yours." She lifted herself up on an elbow and looked across at Zoe. "I love you, you know that?"

"K-Kate? It's only 9:00 PM, are you drunk alr--"

Without missing a beat, Kate leaned across and kissed Zoe on the cheek--just a little peck, but it came as enough of a shock to the bigger girl that she recoiled, her arm shooting out to keep her from rolling off the couch as a blush spread across her cheeks.

"Shit, sorry!" Kate grinned, scratching her head in apology. "I just felt a little sappy, I guess..."

"N-No, it's okay," Zoe stammered, her heart still racing from the kiss. Fuck, that was mean; what if Kate's mom had seen them? Even worse, what if Zoe had gotten horny from it (which she had?) Her one saving grace was that Kate couldn't possibly be in the mood herself; not after dropping something so heavy on her girlfriend.

Kate looked adorable as she tried to change the subject. "In the mean time, we can keep doing what we're doing and... um..."

Shit, no. Despite herself, Zoe found her hands drifting towards the smaller girl under the blanket. This was clearly a Bad Idea: they were both frustrated as hell after a long day of classes, but Kate's mom was in the kitchen fixing dinner and could walk through any moment to catch them doing it.

And yet, being so close together while trying not to fuck only led to a hyperawareness of the possibility of fucking, of the size difference between them as they cuddled under the sheets. Kate the smaller one, slender-hipped and flat-chested, nearly androgynous save for the blonde tresses tied in pigtails; Zoe voluptuous enough to wrap Kate in her thighs like pillows around a slide pole. The thought of pinning Kate down all powerless sent a thrill through her chest like she'd just inhaled a line of coke. The only thing keeping this sex act from happening would be Kate not wanting it. And considering how rarely that actually happened...

No, of course not. Of course she was into it.

"No," Kate whispered, deftly maneuvering over top of her girlfriend and trapping her face in the fat of Zoe's thighs. "You'll ruin your new leggings," she mused, "which we definitely do not want."

Apropos of nothing, she started rubbing her thumb into the fabric-clad cleft between Zoe's legs, as if trying to staunch a wound. Needless to say this did nothing to stop Zoe's arousal from growing; in fact, every bit of friction made her even wetter, holding her hips a little higher despite knowing better.

"Naughty, naughty Zoe... God, when did you start dressing so slutty?" Kate asked with a chuckle. "I can practically see your clit poking through these leggings. You really love that center seam, don't you?"

"K-Kate! Not fair..." Zoe pouted as she tried to push Kate's hand away. "You're the one who made me get these... I wanted to keep wearing loose jeans and--"

"No, for real, your fashion sense fucking sucks," Kate interrupted her, frowning now. "You know you like my ideas better. You know you feel so cute with your tummy out like this," she said running her fingers across Zoe's belly, the touch making the larger girl shudder, her skin tingling, goosebumps popping up across her chubby arms. The soft cotton of Zoe's leggings was stuck between her butt cheeks with sweat, that damned center seam digging in so hard it seemed designed for it...

Even after working off most of her weight gain from high school, Zoe didn't use to wear anything that clung to her thickset hips like this. That was Kate's fault egging her on, buying her crop tops and skintight bottoms that she always thought belonged on smaller girls. Today she'd even lowered herself to wear the kind of hoodie that just had sleeves and shoulders, leaving her boobs and midriff bare save for a clingy tube top she wouldn't normally be seen dead in. Her folded white belly jiggled as Kate poked and prodded it, threatening to spill out the waistband of her leggings.

In Kate's view, it wasn't about dressing to tempt her girlfriend, or anyone else for that matter. Rather, the operative word here was 'cute', a word whose contours Zoe was still coming to grips with. 'Cute' conveyed a kind of neotenous vulnerability along with the body as an end unto itself, letting the stomach fluff hang out because it looked adorable. But clearly this style of dress worked against them when they were trying not to fuck. Kate kept staring at her tummy, Zoe could feel it, and they felt their fingers drift south down their bodies...

"Fuck, we can't do this," Kate blurted out suddenly. She pushed Zoe's hand away and sat back on her haunches, pantomiming something between embarrassment and shock. "Oh god... I'm sorry."

Zoe let out a groan of disappointment--but then she found her eyes wandering over towards the television, where an odd-looking ad was starting to play. The screen was a sea of baby-pink that gradually resolved into the shape of a woman's finger.

"Uh..." Kate said preemptively. "Should we watch something else, or...?"

This wasn't helping them slip anything past Kate's mom. Both of them realized it, but neither wanted to change the channel.

------

"Imagine... infinite pleasure." A French-accented voiceover spoke in a sultry whisper. The screen panned to a close-up of a woman's face, eyes closed, brow furrowed, biting her red-lipstick lips, a hint of drool escaping from one corner. Soon, the droplet rolled off her chin and escaped down into a pink void, the camera following it until it plopped with brilliant foley into a liquid of the same color, sending ripples through its surface. From the pink liquid emerged a sliver of silicone shaped like a petal, itself matte pink save for an inlay of gold around the rim.

There was a kind of sheen to the production that suggested a luxury product, something that wouldn't be out of place on a marble pedestal next to a Chanel purse. Zoe had seen expensive toys like these before: Formless, melted-looking G-spot vibes, and gilded clit suckers that looked like you were getting head from a tax writeoff. She'd always hated the artificial stimulation and felt a bit gross even knowing that they existed--and yet in that moment, Zoe was enraptured, her full attention on the promise of the pink sliver rotating on the screen. She could sense something was different.

"The new Wave for Pearl gives you sensations beyond your wildest dreams," the voiceover continued with the lilting tone of a science museum tour. "Imagine... a pulse from within the very center of your pleasure--a place no man or woman will ever touch--pushing you past past limits you never knew you had."

The Wave's body faded away to reveal its active component, a coil electromagnet like you'd see in a speaker cone, with orange bursts of lightning coursing through it. Above the coil floated a shimmering orb levitating within its magnetic field--the Pearl in question?--bobbing up and down in a way that suggested a gentle wave, all while a quickening beat built anticipation in the background.

"Imagine... a new way to experience your favourite tracks. Receiving the rhythm with your most intimate antenna," the voiceover crooned as the scene cut to footage from a concert, an audience dancing along to throbbing EDM with their arms raised high. The camera zoomed in on a girl whose mouth was wide open as she let loose a pleasured gasp.

"Or... just curl up in bed, turn it on high and let the Wave finish you in seconds--over and over. We won't judge." Fast cuts to women's faces with anguished expressions, mouths half-open and eyes unfocused as if their minds were somewhere else entirely; flashed over and over again until it became hypnotic, before the narrator returned.

"The all new Wave for Pearl. Compatible with all Pearl implants. Noise free, Bluetooth compatible. Pleasure beyond compare."

"Pleasure beyond compare..." Zoe repeated softly, her hands bunched timidly against her heaving breasts. Her heart beat fast in her chest. She couldn't help but cross her thighs together to keep from rubbing herself through her leggings. It felt so wrong with her girlfriend right next to her--but Kate looked back right at her, eyes wide, nodding.

"What the hell? I could've sworn she said 'implant'," Kate whispered. "Like, they leave that thing inside you? F-Forever?"

"I-I don't know," Zoe mumbled, cheeks burning at the thought. "I-I'm sure that's just marketing hype, a-and don't you have enough toys already?" She knew that wasn't what was really going on here, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything for sure.

"Zoe... You don't think... It actually goes inside your--"

"KATE!" The two girls squirmed as a voice like sandpaper cut between their whispering. "What's with all these weird sex ads on TV? Would it kill you to put the news for me?"

With all the grace of a bulldozer, Kate's mom waddled into the living room with her tits hanging out of an open bathrobe, setting three freshly-microwaved ready meals down on the low coffee table along with forks and knives before dropping so hard onto the couch it sent Kate briefly airborne.

The two girls normally would've at least given her a 'thank you' for the food, but not this time--they both turned bright red and looked away from each other, sheepishly adjusting themselves in the couch. There were very few times Zoe wished Kate weren't so considerate: This was definitely one of them.

Unperturbed, and seemingly oblivious, Kate's mom snatched the remote off the table and put on the news, where a college-aged girl in fatigues who looked like she drank coffee for bed talked about how cool it was to be in the draft, how happy she was to get outside and move her body, and why the new war would be over soon, maybe within seconds.

------

The next day after Mr. Lipky's class, Zoe met up with Kate at the table in the far corner of the cafeteria as they'd agreed. It was the one where the lights had stopped working and the leaking roof left a claw-like stain on the wall. The two girls sat hunched over at an extreme angle, whispering to each other like they were about to transfer a set of nuclear codes, which, to be fair, they might as well have been.

"Okay, I found some threads about the thing on the internet," Kate started, quickly shushing the other girl as the lunch lady walked by. "Apparently the Wave is like a... power source or something. They just call it a 'driver'. There's a bunch of different brands, but they're all interchangeable and they all feel about the same. It's just the Wave is the only one with Bluetooth and music stuff; people are saying it's a lot of money to hear Imagine Dragons with your pussy and um..." Kate stopped herself dead. "I guess you want to hear about the other thing."

She shot furtive glances to her left and right before continuing in a whisper. "The Pearl is the implant part. It doesn't have any batteries, it can't be hacked, it doesn't even really connect to anything. It just a weird sort of magnet that moves around inside your um... uh..." Kate, red as a beet, failed to say it. She made hollow shapes with her hands but they didn't look like anything.

"Yeah," Zoe nodded, biting her lip. She couldn't say it either.