Product Testing

It was something out of a fairy tale, Stacy mused. Well, an adult fairy tale. She craned her neck to look up at Dr. Reeves' mansion. She still couldn't believe she had been invited by the man himself, the leading inventor of sex toys, to his home to test out his latest product.

Stacy shook her head, partially to clear the cobwebs from last night, and because she still couldn't believe this was real. She met Dr. Reeves last night at one of the city's hottest clubs. Her friends had convinced her to come out with them and had then promptly abandoned her once they got inside. Stacy found herself sitting at the bar next to a distinguished looking man in his late 40s, early 50s.

"You look like you could use a drink," he remarked. His voice was low, mellifluous.

Stacy made it a point to buy her own drinks -- you couldn't trust men in bars -- but this guy looked kind of like her dad. That is, if her dad worked out all the time and had very expensive, classy taste in clothes. He had dark hair that was beginning to silver and friendly brown eyes.

"Yeah, I could," Stacy sighed.

The older man gestured to the bartender. The bartender, who hadn't paid much attention to Stacy, immediately responded to the man at the bar. "This lovely young woman will have -- what will you have, my dear?" he turned to her.

"A Cosmo," Stacy replied.

"A Cosmo," the man repeated. "Put it on my tab."

Stacy had never seen a bartender make a drink so fast. The guy next to her must have been a pretty good customer. She thanked the bartender when he placed the drink in front of her, then turned to the man next to her.

"Thanks for the drink," she said.

"But of course," the man smiled. He was definitely not like her dad, Stacy decided. Her dad's smile wasn't so confident, so sexy. She wasn't into older men, but maybe she'd make an exception this evening.

"I'm Roger." He extended his hand.

He shook Stacy's hand gently. His hand was warm, soft, and dry. Stacy had a brief vision of his hand on other places on her body.

"Stacy," she responded after a moment.

Roger smiled again. It was a warm smile that Stacy enjoyed watching. "It's very nice to meet you, Stacy."

"It's nice to meet you," she replied. Stacy didn't often mean it, though in this case, it was sincere.

"What do you do, Stacy?" Roger asked, sliding his bar stool closer to hers.

"I'm an administrative assistant," Stacy said. She hated telling people what she did. She felt that at the age of 26, she should have gotten further in her career. Stacy had been stuck in the same position since she graduated four years ago. At least she had a job, her mother reminded her. It could be a lot worse. "It's not very exciting," she added. "What do you do?"

"I'm an inventor," Roger replied.

"An inventor?" Stacy's eyebrows rose. "That's cool. What do you invent?"

"I create devices that enhance sexual pleasure," he said, smiling.

"You mean, sex toys?" Stacy asked. The Cosmo was clearly going to her head. She normally wouldn't blurt out something so forward.

"You could call them that, yes," Roger smiled again. He reached into his pocket. Stacy noticed his pants fit snugly. He pulled out a wallet made of what Stacy could only assume was the finest Italian leather and drew out a business card.

Stacy held the thick card stock in her hand. Of course, it was on the highest-quality paper available. She had a feeling everything this Roger guy had was of the highest quality. The text swam before her eyes. She definitely had too much to drink. She blinked, then squinted. "Aphrodite Inc.," she read aloud.

She looked up at Roger again. "Wait, you're Roger Reeves? The founder of the most successful sex toy companies on the planet?" Her voice rose.

"That's me." Roger's voice was a purr. He moved closer, so that his mouth was right near her ear. "I'm actually working on a new design, and I'm looking for product testers."

Stacy almost fell off her stool, and it wasn't because of the alcohol. She had read glowing reviews of Aphrodite's products for years, yet she had never bought one. She couldn't justify the cost on her meager salary.

"Yes!" Stacy crowed. "Hell yes!"

"Come to my place tomorrow evening," he said. "The address is on the back of the card."

That's how she found herself in the ritziest neighborhood in town, standing on the steps of the biggest house on the block. Stacy still couldn't believe her luck.

The large, heavy wooden door was answered by a woman in a maid's uniform. The maid seemed to know exactly why Stacy was there. "You're testing Dr. Reeves' latest product, yes?" she said neutrally. "I'll take your coat."

Stacy didn't think of how many other women must have come here to test out Aphrodite's products. She was overwhelmed by the opulence -- a massive crystal chandelier, marble floors, antique furniture.

"Follow me upstairs, please." The maid broke Stacy's reverie. Stacy walked behind the maid up the wide marble staircase, trying not to gape at her surroundings.

The maid led Stacy to a door. "Dr. Reeves is waiting for you," she said. Then, she turned smartly on her heels and walked down the hall. Stacy opened the heavy wooden door. She wasn't sure what to expect, but in for a penny, in for a pound.

The heavy door yielded to her push. She stepped through the threshold. The room in which she found herself was dimly lit. As her eyes adjusted, she made out a large bed with a thick blanket. Large, fluffy pillows were placed neatly at its head.

"Hello, Stacy." The deep, musical voice startled her. Stacy spun around. Roger (or should she call him Dr. Reeves?) lounged in a leather chair that probably cost as much as she earned in two years. "Welcome to my product testing facility."

"Um, hi," she said. Was she nervous? What happened to her excitement?

Roger rose from the chair. Unlike her dad, he didn't make any grunting noises. Nor did his joints pop. He sauntered forward. "Let me explain how we test our products. We want our testers to be completely comfortable. They should have the most positive experience possible."

Stacy looked around the room. It was gorgeous, with tasteful décor, plush carpets, and candles setting a romantic mood. She hadn't even done anything yet, and she was pretty sure this was going to be one of the most positive experiences she'd ever had.

"Would you like something to drink?" Roger asked. He held up a delicate wine glass filled with red liquid.

Stacy accepted it gratefully. She normally wasn't a big red wine drinker -- she found it too dry. However, she needed something to calm her nerves. She sipped it slowly.

The wine was sweet without being acidic. Stacy sipped again. Was that a slight spiciness she detected? Before she realized it, the glass was almost empty. "Oops," she giggled. "Drank that kinda fast."

"It's okay," Roger smiled reassuringly. "Wine should be enjoyed. I can get you another glass." He refilled her glass. Stacy started off sipping. The wine was just so yummy, though. Soon, her glass was empty.

"I can refill your glass after you've tested the product," he said, gently taking the glass from Stacy. Stacy was mildly disappointed, although it was hard to feel upset. The wine had warmed her. She felt looser, sillier. She giggled again.

Roger guided her to the bed. "What we'd like you to do is to use our product and tell us what you think afterwards. Pretty simple, right?"

Stacy nodded absently. Her head was spinning a bit. She sat down abruptly on the bed. It was the perfect combination of softness and firmness. She almost lay down, but she was just sober enough to realize that would have been rude.

Roger must have realized she was a bit drunk. "I've left the product on the bedside table, along with our award-winning lube," he said, moving toward the door. "We've also left you some satin sleepwear, if you'd like. I hope you don't mind -- I guessed your size. Our testers say it's more comfortable, and like I said, we want you to have the best possible experience. When you're done, just go through the blue door over there." He pointed at a dark blue door on the far side of the room. "We'll do a survey to see what you thought of the product. Enjoy."

He closed the door softly behind him. Stacy decided not to stand up, lest she fall flat on her face. That wine really packed a kick. She flopped onto her stomach, then crawled on the bed toward the bedside table. There were two boxes on the table -- a smaller box, which Stacy assumed held the sex toy, and a larger box, which probably contained the satin sleepwear. Stacy grabbed the larger box first.

Inside was a dark purple silk nightie. Stacy gasped. This was the sort of item she had long coveted but couldn't afford. Polyester lingerie was the only thing that fit into her budget. She rubbed the material against her face. It was soft, lightweight, and almost liquid. She was definitely wearing this.

Even drunk, she had never shucked off her clothes so fast. The feel of the silk against her bare skin was exquisite. She spent at least a minute rubbing it against her nipples (which had never been so sensitive. Stacy would have asked herself when that happened, yet it felt too good to wonder about). She almost forgot about the sex toy, until she accidentally bumped up against the box.

Eagerly, she opened it. A creamy silicone device lay in the box. It was shaped liked a V. Stacy gently lifted it up to examine it. One end was for suction -- Stacy had seen enough ads for suction toys to recognize what the protrusion would do. She presumed the other end vibrated.

Stacy ran her fingers over the surface. Most of it was smooth, except for the textured, vibrating end. Was the vibrator flexible? An experimental tug showed it was. That was a nice-to-have feature, although there were definitely other vibrators on the market that had the same functionality. What made it different?

She would just have to test it out. Stacy reached for the bottle of lube. The lube was slightly runny, just the way she liked it. She lifted up the hem of her nightie and began applying it. The cool liquid was a welcome contrast to the heat between her legs. Actually, she could just keep rubbing -- this felt really good. Stacy reminded herself she was here to test a vibrator. She could always masturbate at home if this was an unsatisfying experience.

The "on" button was right near the suction head. She pressed it and heard a soft whirring noise. It was very quiet. Stacy had used much louder toys before. She made a mental note that the noise level was a plus.

She couldn't hear the toy over the white noise in the room. They must have been piping it in, she realized. There was some kind of thrumming bass in the background. It matched the thrumming of her blood. At the same time, she was very relaxed. She stretched. "Alright," she said to herself, "let's try this out."

Stacy decided to use the suction first. She knew that clitoral stimulation helped get her warmed up. She bent the vibrator, so the vibrating end wasn't touching her vulva. The suction was gentle, yet firm enough for Stacy to feel the first stirrings of an orgasm. Warm, anticipatory pressure built up between her legs.

She could have kept going, but she wasn't sure how sensitive she'd be after the orgasm. And the other end of the vibrator was begging her to test it out. Stacy adjusted the other end of the vibrator so that it would be inside of her, and switched it on.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Stacy couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this good using a vibrator. Her lovers could have learned a thing or two from this device. The vibrating end was hitting all the right spots, while the suction continued applying gentle pressure to her clitoris.

The pressure was mounting. Stacy's body shook. Her eyes rolled up in the back of her head. The beat in the background continued steadily, insistently. It almost sounded like it was telling her to come, telling her to let go. That wasn't possible, though. Stacy was hearing things. Wow, this was some vibrator if it provoked auditory hallucinations!

She couldn't hold back any longer. With a loud moan, she climaxed. Her body shuddered with pleasure. Every nerve sang. Stacy felt like she could float off the bed.

Stacy lay on the bed panting as the orgasm receded. The pleasure still flowed through her whole body, although with less urgency, less power. She pulled out the vibrator and placed it on the bed next to her. Stacy wasn't sure of the etiquette in this situation -- should she clean it off? She didn't even know where the bathroom was.

The white noise machine was still on. It almost sounded like it was talking to her. "Go to the door," it said. "Go to the door." Was that possible? Could a white noise machine tell someone to do something?

The voice was more and more insistent. "Go to the door," it urged. It was inside her head now, telling her to get out of bed and go to the door. On wobbly legs, Stacy rose from the bed and walked slowly to the blue door at the other end of the room.

She stepped into a much larger room, decorated in dark blues, greens, and purple. It was dimly lit by more candles than she had ever seen. If Stacy had been thinking a bit more clearly, she would have considered it a fire hazard. Her brain was still hazy from the orgasm, though. There was a fragrance in the air, something musky, that filled her nostrils and clouded her mind even further. She stood there for a moment, breathing in the scent and trying to understand the scene in front of her.

There were low couches and plush rugs throughout the room. Women in silken nighties lounged on them. Some of them sat alone, others sat with other women. No, Stacy realized, they weren't sitting together. They were making out. Or doing something more.

Stacy wasn't into other women. She could appreciate female beauty objectively, but she wasn't attracted to other women. Until today, it seemed. These women were -- there was no other way to put it -- hot. She thought she had been sated after using the vibrator, yet she was starting to get turned on again.

There was a white noise machine in this room, too. Stacy could hear a voice through the fuzziness. The voice said, "Women are hot. You're hot. It's so hot to be with another woman."

"It's so hot to be with another woman," Stacy repeated. She was rapidly warming to the idea. The other women in the room were gorgeous in their silky lingerie. There were all sorts of women, too -- short, tall, thin, curvy. Their skin colors ranged from milky white to a deep, rich brown. Stacy wondered what their skin would feel like. Would it be soft, like hers?

A woman sitting on a couch nearby caught her eye. She had dark skin and a long, lean body. A haze of brown curls floated above her head. She wore a yellowish-green nightie, which contrasted beautifully with her skin. The woman stared off into space as she absently rubbed her nipple through the silk.

Stacy walked toward her. "Women are hot," the voice told her. "It's so hot to be with another woman." This woman was hot. "Hi," Stacy said.

The woman turned to her slowly. "Hi," she drawled. Her dark eyes were unfocused. Her hand continued rubbing her nipple.

"I'm Stacy," Stacy said. "You're hot." The words left her mouth before she could think about them. It was true, though. This other woman was hot. Was she a model?

The other woman took a moment to respond. Stacy wondered if the seated woman was high, although maybe she was getting high, too? She was having trouble concentrating. The scene in front of her took on a soft haze.

"I'm Blanche," the other woman responded. Blanche looked Stacy up and down in frank appraisal. "You're hot, too," she said, her words slurred. "Wanna fuck?"

The bluntness should have surprised Stacy. However, fucking seemed like a good idea right now. Her nipples had hardened, and the feel of them against the silk was maddening and heavenly at once. Stacy leaned forward slowly, straddling Blanche. She ran her fingers down Blanche's delicate jaw. "Your skin is so soft," Stacy murmured.

Blanche placed her hand on the back of Stacy's neck, pulling her closer. Their lips met and parted. Tongues glided against one another, exploring. Blanche's other arm circled Stacy's waist, finding its way under the nightie.

"Would you ladies like some wine?" The romantic interlude was broken by a tall woman with dusky skin and thick, black hair cascading down her shoulders. She carried a tray with glasses filled with the dark red wine Stacy drank earlier. Their waitress wore a burgundy nightie. Stacy's eyes went straight to the other woman's bust. Large nipples poked at the fabric.

Stacy lowered herself into Blanche's lap. "Yeah, I'd like some wine," she told the waitress.

"Yeah," Blanche drawled. "Wine makes me feel gooood."

The waitress carefully placed the tray on the low table next to them and passed each woman a glass. Stacy didn't care about sipping slowly. She remembered how good the wine was, how loose and relaxed she felt after drinking it. Stacy and Blanche both finished their glasses quickly. Their waitress collected the glasses, yet she made no move to leave.

"You two are hot," she said, batting long, dark eyelashes at them.

"You're hot, too," Stacy replied.

The heat of the wine was flowing through her body now. She was relaxed, warm, loose, horny. Stacy slowly rubbed against Blanche's thighs.

"Can I join you?" the waitress asked, moving closer.

"Yeah," Blanche moaned. Stacy smiled languorously and nodded.

"I'm Shalini," the woman said as she leaned forward, joining Blanche and Stacy on the couch.

In another wing of the house, Roger Reeves walked into the control room. "How are things going?" he asked the short, pasty man who was staring at a bank of screens.

"Good," the man replied, without turning to look at his boss.

"How's Stacy working out so far?" Roger asked, leaning over his employee's shoulder to get a better look at the screen.

"She's responded really well to the subliminal messaging, the fragrance, the wine." The other man ticked off the items on his fingers. "She's a great fit for your harem."

"Scott," Roger warned mildly. "'Harem' has such a negative connotation. I prefer to use the word 'talent pool.' Stacy is a great addition to the talent pool. How are the ratings?"

"Really good," Scott said, craning his neck to look at another screen. "The threesome going on between Shalini, Stacy, and Blanche is bringing in beaucoup bucks."

Roger patted Scott on the shoulder. "That's what I like to hear. Let me know if we've got a customer interested in Stacy. A body like that...I'm sure someone in our audience must be quite excited."

"Will do, boss," Scott replied. He didn't even look over his shoulder as Roger left the room. He watched the screen as Shalini, Stacy, and Blanche's bodies rubbed up against each other.