Episodios

  • Megan At the Sex Shop: Part 1

    Megan At the Sex Shop: Part 1
    May 21 2025
    Megan At the Sex Shop: Part 1Young Megan's new job prospects.Based on posts by p Sullivan 2 22 22, in 4 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Megan was standing nude in front of the mirror. Little drips of water after the shower still visible on her skin. She ran a finger along her skin; gently cupping her tit; and continuing down along her stomach. Her nipples immediately hardening. She ran the other hand along her smooth mound."What do you wear at an adult store" Megan said to herself. "Classy or Sassy". She gave her body a final critical look; and then turned to the closet. Megan wasn't like those other girls flaunting their sexuality. Her parents taught her to be conservative and to save herself for marriage. "Money is money; and this store was hiring. It's not like she this is using any of those toys; I am just selling them." Megan justified to herself.The closest thing to sexy that Megan could find was a white tennis skirt. It was the shortest skirt she owned; and went a few inches past her ass. So as long as she was careful and not twirling or bending down, she will be covered. To go with the skirt, she decided on a white cotton panties. For the top, she chose a white buttoned shirt, and a comfortable white bra underneath. The white shirt was a little transparent, but only in sunlight. So that won't be a problem inside a store.She arrived at the store on time and met her manager Lauren."Megan; right? Great to finally meet you"; Lauren said extending her hand for a shake."We just have a few preliminary items we need to discuss first. I think you will do wonderfully here. We promote a sex positive image. What that means is that we, as representatives of the brand, need to exude confidence in our sexuality. Can you do that Megan?""I think so. ok. yeah. I guess so" said MeganLauren watched Megan for a moment, taking a long look and sizing her up before continuing. "All new hires need to go through a probation period to ensure they actually have that confidence. I will be responsible for you during this period but also judging you. The way we like to train new hires is to give them the flexibility to discover themselves. You just need to complete 50 tasks. You decide on what they are but I will need to judge whether you are being true to yourself and our brand. Unfortunately, if a task is not sufficient, I will need to issue you a warning, and if you get more than 5 warnings, we will need to end the training and terminate your job here. Does all this make sense Megan?"Megan could only node. "50 tasks, how bad can it be. And I get to decide what they are, so that's not bad" Megan though to herself."Your first task is now. What would you like to do to push a little bit on that sexual comfort boundary. " Lauren asked.Megan was a little dumbstruck thinking about what she can do. "How about I unbutton a few top buttons on my shirt?" asked Megan."That works. See, that was so easy. " Lauren agreed.Megan slowly unbuttoned the top 3 buttons on her shirt. With that many buttons undone, people can now see the tops of her boobs and a little of her white bra underneath."Great. 49 tasks left. This will be fast. Let’s do a few tasks now, just to get you a little loose and comfortable, before the store opens and clients start coming in. What do you want to do for your next task?""Can I unbutton another button?" asked Megan."So this is actually a great example where I would give you a warning. This time I won't because you are just learning the rules. Each task needs to be unique, and needs to be more than what you did for the prior ones. So no copy cats, and no incremental baby tasks. "Megan looked around at the aisles of sex toys; and then looked down at her outfit, "I don't know what else I can do. Maybe you can give me some idea of what would qualify?" asked Megan sheepishly."I would love to; I think for your second task. You need to push that boundary of your comfort zone. What can it be, let’s see, you can take your top off, and just work in your bra or you can take your bra off, and risk someone seeing your nipples? Do your nipples get hard? "..; "hmm.; another option; you can take your panties off. Your skirt is pretty long, so no one would know except me and you. It will be our little secret. " said Lauren smiling.Megan could feel her juices starting to flow. She couldn't believe her body betraying her like that. "No one would know" she started rationalizing. She has never done anything like this before. She has always worn panties, and comfortable, conservative panties at that. She was at the store for 5 minutes, and already she is being asked to take her panties off. This is another level of crazy. But, her body had other ideas. This moment was so crazy but so exciting at the same time. She could feel her body reacting; her face flushing. Lauren smiled watching Megan's reaction; seeing her body fidgeting; her face flushing.. clearly becoming aroused.Megan lowered her eyes to the floor; ...
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  • I Got Something To Tell You

    I Got Something To Tell You
    May 19 2025
    Lapsed catholic woman finds need to confess. By MarthaMcKinley - Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I’m driving back to see my priest, from the college parish. Yeah, this catholic girl needs deliverance from some major guilt. No, let’s see; how many years has it been? It hit me yesterday, as Robbie & I were driving home. Oh, Gawd! Oh Gawd!Why shouldn’t I worry? This probably changes things. No. It definitely changes things! Every thing. I had sex with Bart, a married man. Get it, you rash brain. I’m a married woman who just had sex with another woman’s husband. And not simply another woman, but one of my friends. What was I thinking? Obviously, I wasn’t. There we were. Robbie was driving. I glanced over at Robbie, driving us home, tapping on the steering wheel and belting out the words to Billie Joel’s Only the Good Die Young coming over the radio. “You Catholic girls start much too late.” Did Billy Joel know, too? The irony of it all. I was one of them: a graduate eight years ago of St. Margaret’s Academy, an all girls’ high school run by the Sisters of Notre Dame. In my four years there, I had had negligible experience with boys-just a handful of dances in the gym at the neighboring Catholic boys’ school. I never had a boyfriend. I was never even confident enough in myself to flirt, for I never found the girl looking back at me in the mirror to be anything but plain. In college, no one had even asked me out until my junior year when Robbie did. I was so flummoxed, so flattered, so sure it must be a charity act that I spent the next two years at Macalester in perpetual gratitude, satisfying his every need. And right after graduation, with a BFA in painting, Miss flat chested and shy, but virgin no more Mary Johnson married Mister handsome, self-assured, going places Robbie Dwyer. “I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints…” he sang, glancing over at me, suggestively. Did he do it, too? Did he have sex with Robyn in the hot tub after Bart and I got out? It was entirely possible. In the four years since we were married, he had confessed to at least a half dozen women who turned him on. The Swedish lab tech at work with the impossibly long lashes. The buxom Australian hostess at the Sunshine Factory, our friday night watering hole. The neighbor from Kenya with the wide hips and muscular buttocks bulging out her short shorts as she dragged the sprinkler across the lawn. The Vietnamese manicurist, where I got my nails done, with the alluring-demurring smile on her face. My God, he had a fantasy girl from almost every continent. At least he was ecumenical. But had he ever acted on any of these urges…other than acting them out in our bedroom? For whatever reason, his fantasies turned me on. They were so absurd, and far from making me suspicious, when he brought them up in bed at night, I wanted to play along. I became the big-bosomed Aussie who smothered him with her tits, or the wide assed African who yanked on his hose. We would start assuming these roles in all seriousness, but soon be laughing so hard that Robbie would get massive, I would become sopping wet, and we’d fuck fast and furious until we came in great gasps. Then we would kiss and hug, saying all those wonderful words of love to each other, before falling asleep entwined. You know, it’s amazing when you find yourself. All my scholarly life I had struggled with reading, writing essays, taking multiple-choice tests. But one thing I loved to do-and was good at-was rendering landscapes in pastel: layering wheat fields with raw sienna, coating barns and silos in brilliant cad red and alizarin crimson, foliating giant cottonwoods with varying shades of sap green, and stretching cobalt shadows across lawns and patios, bending them up walls of grand white farmhouses. I guess, in retrospect, it was how I sublimated my sexuality as a teenager. Years later, post art school-and after having given up on Catholicism-I discovered the co-existence of the creative impulse and drive for sexual gratification. It was then that my artistic successes began. People seemed to respond passionately to my new work. Collectors bought four, five, or six of my pieces. Each new series-the Dakotas, the Mississippi-won me acclaim at venues in Minneapolis, Santa Fe, Denver, and Chicago. I almost couldn’t make enough for all the enthusiastic gallery owners. The result was gaining a measure of confidence, not only in art, but in love, which I had formerly never known, and which seemed so natural for others, like Robbie, Bart, and Robyn. Oh my God, I forgot about Robyn, the red-haired nurse-midwife whose house we were just leaving. Robbie fantasized the most about that little spitfire-at least, she’s the one who seemed to augment his cock the greatest. I remember his last “Robyn dream,” a mere week ago: he and she were wrestling at the pond’s edge after they emerged from a skinny dip on...
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  • Emergency Callgirl

    Emergency Callgirl
    May 18 2025
    An escort asks her best friend for help on a job.By Cybotic. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.Sophie stared at her friend in shock. "You can't be serious!"Millie was red-faced, but desperate. "Please? There's nobody else I can ask. I need your help.""How long have you been doing this?""Almost two years.""Two years?" Sophie exclaimed. "And you kept it from me? We've been best friends for twenty years, ever since kindergarten. How could you not tell me?""Look, it started when I took that trip to Australia to see my grandmother just before she died. I had exhausted my savings just getting down there. I had no money for the return trip or to cover my rent or car payment when I did get back.""Okay," Sophie said. "You could have called me. I would have found a way to help.""I almost did. But then I was sitting in a bar in Sydney, drinking my last twenty dollars. A creepy, older man tried to pick me up. I said No. I turned him down flat. Then he offered me money. And I said Yes. I have been saying Yes ever since. I built a website and advertised on various escort sites. I got a new phone for my new job. And I was too embarrassed to tell you any of that."Sophie realized that she had no right to judge Mellie. She had herself once been living with a boyfriend she'd come to despise. But she'd delayed ending the relationship because he was paying the rent and she couldn't afford a place of her own. She'd had sex with a guy for financial reasons. Morally, she'd made the same choice as her friend. It would be hypocritical to refuse her friend this favor."All right," she said, reluctantly agreeing. "I'll do it. Just don't expect me to make a habit of this. When and where does this happen?""Tonight. I've booked a room at the Brighton Hotel," Mellie said, relieved that she wouldn't have to cancel."What do I wear to something like this?" Sophie asked, picturing a Victoria's Secret runway model."Something comfortable but attractive. Jeans and a T-shirt. Or a dress if you'd like. It doesn't have to be sexy, so long as we don't look like slobs.""Lingerie?"Not necessary. See, we don't have to seduce these guys. No effort required. The moment they went on my website and clicked the 'Book Appointment' link, the seduction was accomplished. I don't usually bother with underwear at all. Less to take off and put on again. But bring a swimsuit. We can use the hotel pool before the appointment.""And after?" Sophie said, thinking how dirty she would probably feel afterward."Well, you can get back in the pool afterward," Mellie agreed. "I won't have time. I have more than one date scheduled tonight.""How many?""Four more. Five, altogether. If nobody cancels, it will be a busy night.""Five? Really? You're going to let five different guys fuck you? In one night?""That's the job," Mellie said with a light laugh. "I've been fucked by more than a thousand men in the two years I've been at this.""You count them?""I do, yes. At first, I kept a journal, detailing each encounter. But it got to be too tedious. The experiences are exciting and fun but writing about them gets repetitive. Eventually, I was just making quick notes of the date, the location, and a description of the guy with whatever name he gives me. And since I always verify appointments by phone, I also have each guy's number. And I put it all in a database file. It helps a lot when I get repeat clients and regulars. I can look at my records and know a guy's likes and preferences. And, as a bonus, I know for a fact that I've been with over a thousand different men.""Wow," Sophie whispered. "Aren't you afraid of getting pregnant? Or a disease?""I'm on birth control. And there is this special tree that grows in Australia. The Spotted Melaleuca. It produces an oil that enhances the human immune system. Almost 100% of infections are prevented. And the very few that aren't stopped completely are too weak and damaged to cause any harm. A girl I met down there is sending me a regular supply of Spotted Melaleuca tea. I never get sick anymore. No viruses. No bacteria. I can't even get food poisoning.""Why don't they sell it here?""Australia won't allow it to be exported. The US and Germany would rip out the forests to claim all of it for themselves.""Can I have some of the tea?""That depends," Millie said. "It's pretty expensive stuff. Do you know what OWO means? Or BBBJ?""No. Is that important?""How about CIM?""Again, I must say No.""One more. Do you know what FS means?""No clue," Sophie said with a shrug."OK. They're all shortcut terms escorts use. OWO means Oral With Out. Without a condom, that is. BBBJ, Bareback Blowjob, means the same thing. CIM means Come In Mouth. And FS means Full Service. That refers to regular penis-in-vagina sex. These are pretty standard offerings."I'm a very popular escort because I offer even more. My clients can get BBFS and CIP. That's Bareback Full Service and Cum In Pussy. I don't require condoms if the guy is willing to pay my Bareback ...
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  • Socially-Distanced Coupling Devices

    Socially-Distanced Coupling Devices
    May 17 2025
    Techs test devices to enable sex during social distancing. By Pearce R Daly. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Sometimes, events can change the needs of us common humans. As the year Twenty twenty arrived, life seemed so care free. Then surprisingly, a pandemic threatened to change all we have known. We have to think before we embrace, keeping a healthy distance. Little did we know how this would be effectuated by new technology? But with crisis comes opportunity to adapt. Jonas and Tawny agreed to become part of a research project to test new devices to meet the challenges of social distancing.I’m Candice. I’m part of the university’s research analysts. We partnered with the Maxim corporation and monitored the people who volunteered to be test subjects. My name is Jonas, I am in my early 40s, single by choice. I have had many relationships but for many different reasons, they seemed to end after a time. My work in technology occupied much of my time and some might think I was married to my work. I work as a technician/developer at a startup technology company named Maxim Hard in the Silicon Valley. Though this two year old company is still trying to get a foot hold, it employs a strong crew of diverse people. Many new, innovative products have sprung forth from the minds of this group. For a while I have been working on a hardware-software combination that I had hoped to bring forth for those who were separated by distance. Never did I believe that a virus would affect so many so quickly and dangerously as to cause a need for social distancing. The device that I had been working on would negate the need for physical contact yet would hopefully produce the same physical and possibly the same emotional outcome while in separate locations. The company refers to this as the Sensuous Shared Stimulator, but in reality it is a MFD, Mind Fucking Device. I was to be assigned a partner to test this device before the company would even consider a test marketing. Her name is Tawny, in her late 20s, early thirties, a technician. She appears to be the classic almost geek, hair in a tight bun, big glasses, khaki pants that looked like she was swimming in them and a light blue loose-fitting polo shirt that made one wonder if she had any breasts at all. She was extremely shy, hesitating to answer questions and not offering much input on this project. Little did I know that her inner hunger was about to be released. At first, I was bothered by the age difference between Tawny and myself, but then I told myself this was for science, at least that thought would rationalize what could possibly happen going forward. The outcome would be positive for mankind and we were just sacrificing for the good of others, yet, in the back of my mind my upbringing cast the shadow of sin and guilt. And yet, there was a need of a paycheck. So, after a weekend of conflicted self- torture, we arrived in the testing area of Maxim Hard Technologies. We looked at each other nervously, each putting the device on one ear, as if it were a Blue Tooth device. We said our good byes as we were escorted to private areas. As designed, the devices only allows what one's mind really wants and desires, and no force, unless desired. I sat back in the recliner and relaxed as I thought of what was next, and in the next moment I found I was in a room with Tawny. As I was to find out, she was much less inhibited mentally, as far as thoughts go. Tawny's soft, brown hair flowed down to her shoulders, accentuating her beautiful blue eyes. She wore no glasses and her eyes twinkled with life, a bit of sparkle shown through. She has rich, full lips and one hell of a body that had been hidden by those work clothes. She wore a spring green dress, tied at the waist, that accented perfectly proportioned breasts that reminded me of the shape of gum drops that I remembered from my childhood. Such a sweet memory and such a sweet sight. Somehow I must have squirmed in the lounge chair and loosened the device from my ear and my mind was no longer in the same place as Tawny's, and I realized I need to adjust myself, damn tight pants! And in that moment, I had to wonder what Tawny was feeling. Hi, I’m Tawny. Here’s my story. One minute Jonah is here, eyes locking into mine after he realized that I had caught him ogling my breasts. A fire was ignited in areas neglected way too long; and then, suddenly he was gone. What the fuck? I know this was technically product testing, but there was more to this. After being married, having a child then divorcing someone who basically played me for a fool, I never believed that a man could arouse the flames of passion that had been extinguished by that kind of treatment. Jonas was heading toward middle age and I was more than a dozen years his junior. He had developed a middle age paunch and yet he seemed comfortable, and I don't mean like an old couch; but a non-threatening man, yet with a playful gleam in the eyes. As I...
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  • Holistic Medical Exam

    Holistic Medical Exam
    May 16 2025
    Alice liked to be the boss. Her doctor had other ideas. By hardtimes x. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Alice was not used to being kept waiting. She was a busy woman, for Christ’s sake! She looked over to the young receptionist who instantly turned bright red and tried to look busy. Alice had already given the poor girl a hard time. twice. Not that she was in a position to do anything about it, of course.Alice looked at her watch again. A whole minute had passed since the last time. Didn’t they realise she had a company to run?! Her foot began to twitch. Not a good sign, as anyone who worked for her was only too aware. It didn’t help that, as far as Alice was concerned, this whole thing was a total waste of time. She was 35 and kept fit with regular visits to the gym. She had never had a day off sick in her life. What did she need a medical for? But the board had insisted. All senior management. No exceptions. The receptionist’s phone rang. Another glance at the watch. Another minute had passed. Fuck them! They’re a bunch of idiots anyway. Alice stood and headed for the door. The receptionist put down the phone. ‘Doctor Williams will see you now.’ Every gram of her innate arrogance demanded her to continue her departure without so much as an acknowledgment to the receptionist. Hence the inordinate pause as Alice froze with her hand on the handle and the receptionist dare not breathe, before Alice turned, strode across to the other side of the reception, and launched herself through the door into Williams’ consulting room. ‘Alice!’ welcomed a somewhat startled Dr Williams. ‘Do take a seat.’ ‘Ms Rawlinson, if you please.’ She sat on the chair at the side of his desk. The foot still twitched. ‘Ms Rawlinson. Of course,’ corrected a suitably admonished Williams, although he held her stare unflinchingly. How dare he?! No one held her stare. No one! Having been kept waiting for this charade to begin, Alice was in no mood to be challenged. A familiar burst of adrenaline shot through her body as her hackles rose. She wasted no time in making it clear to Williams that she did not have the time for this stupidity. She was perfectly healthy, and she had a business to run. She was here under duress. He should keep the examination to the essentials only, and conduct even those with the utmost efficiency. Williams allowed Alice to complete her diatribe. At which point he carefully placed his Mont Blanc pen on his pad, leant back in his chair, and looked at her patiently. The audacity! Didn’t he know who she was? She wasn’t just some junior manager; she was the CEO for fuck’s sake! The good doctor was well aware of who she was but was not easily cowed. Williams gave a speech of his own, explaining that he also had a job to do which, this particular afternoon, required him to give her a thorough medical examination on the instructions of her board. It would take as long as was required. Her foot stopped twitching, her face flushed, and Alice became conscious of a warm tingling between her legs. She ignored it and, in a further attempt to take control, began to tell Williams what she thought he required. He quickly interrupted and assured her that he knew what he needed to ask. And so began the medical, with a raft of questions about her lifestyle and diet and family history and; In her life Alice always took control. In business meetings she made sure that she led them, regardless of who’s the meeting was. That way she influenced the discussion and got what she wanted. In the office she was the boss, and no one questioned her decisions. It would be the same in her private life, if she had one. Occasionally, when away on business, she would role play subservient with some unsuspecting one night fuck she’d pick up in the hotel bar, but in reality even then she directed the whole thing. But here, with each personal question Williams asked, the balance of power shifted further in his favour. There was nothing she could do to wrest it back. This was not a circumstance Alice relished. Eventually it proved too much. Alice stood and picked up her bag. ‘You must have enough now, doctor. I have to be going.’ ‘Sit down.’ Williams didn’t even look up from his notes. Alice froze, stunned by the man’s presumptuousness. 'I said, sit down. I haven’t finished yet.’ 'Doctor Williams,’ began Alice with as much authority in her voice as she could muster. 'Sit!’ barked Williams. Alice sat. Her knickers were damp. Absurd! She put it down to the fact that she hadn’t enjoyed any cock for nearly a month. God, she’d probably feel the same with the office junior right now. Now, there was a thought. A few more questions and the interrogation was over. But if Alice thought her position was about to improve, she was mistaken. 'Take off your clothes, please,’ said Williams as he moved over to the scales. 'Is that really necessary?’ queried Alice. Williams remained ...
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  • The Sex Doll Crime Spree: Part 2

    The Sex Doll Crime Spree: Part 2
    May 15 2025
    Robot Sex Doll On the loose.By Anonymous Perv. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I’d played a prank on my boss. He made his latest sex robot doll as a replica of me, so I ‘filled in’ the bot during a series of tests. But it went too far, when I was getting felt up. That plus my nipples look visibly different, & respond to arousal in a very elevated way.I changed the topic. "Brody, you never made me aware of just how far you've come with this technology." I pointed to Samantha."What do you mean?""This isn't just a," I dropped my voice to a whisper, as if I was afraid I'd insult my clone, "sex-bot. You've got her doing stuff that's going to create strong, emotional connections to the end user.""Yes, exactly.""Do you not understand how dangerous that is?" I asked. I didn't have a master's degree or PhD like the others, but even I knew this was treading on very dangerous territory."Sam, do you think you could put your clothes on? Before we continue this conversation?"I slapped the straps back over my shoulders and adjusted my bits. Then I pressed for more information. "Was this the plan all along?"Brody sighed, looking to Samantha, then back to me. "Honestly, no. Pete and I only realized it ourselves when we started testing. As you can see, Eros has developed an A I that is incredibly responsive to instructions and the environment around it. It also keeps a database of experiences it has with each person it interacts with, remembering their personal responses to previous situations. It can customize how it behaves with every individual."Samantha stepped forward, interrupting, "I would prefer you recognize that I am in the room when speaking about me. You could even include me in the conversation. And my pronouns are 'she' and 'her.'" She actually sounded a bit snarky on that last line.I responded, "Samantha, I don't think I've ever seen anything like you. You're; more; than what I was expecting. I mean that as a compliment, but it doesn't negate the shock." I was testing her while talking. Acknowledging her presence, as she asked, while also complimenting her and seeing how well she could process complex human emotion.Samantha smiled, almost flirting with me, before she addressed her boss. "So; are we gonna fuck or not?"The question came out of nowhere and Brody stuttered, trying to come up with a response. I injected myself, "It's good to know your core programming is functioning," I said."Yes, and I'd like to fulfill it, please." She stepped closer to me, reaching for my neckline, softly touching my skin. "Think how kinky it would be with the both of us." She leaned in, whispering a question, "You're the one I'm modeled after, isn't that right?" The sultry bot asked me.I nodded slowly, desperately seeking Brody's attention for any help. I was turned on and scared at the same time.The bot went on; "I like how you look, Sam. I think you're very pretty. Brody told me I'm pretty, too. He told me this morning, in fact."I glanced over to Brody and he was red in the face.Samantha held my face in her open hands and made me look her in the eye. "Would you like to suck Brody's cock with me, Sam?"I was barely able to move my head with Samantha in control, but my eyes were darting all over. The view to Brody was obstructed by Samantha. I nodded, nervously.Samantha smiled again, nodding with me. "That's right, Sam. We're going to suck your boss' cock."I'm not entirely sure we had a choice. Brody and I found ourselves trapped into doing whatever Samantha wanted. In the moment, it was the hottest thing I had ever experienced. I certainly am not proud to be admitting this, but it would be bereft of me to leave out. I explored Samantha's body almost as much as Brody's.It was fascinating, like fucking oneself in third person. Except for her nipples, we were identical to a tee. I had to make her cum, just out of curiosity, and she made her orgasms appear more authentic than my actual, very authentic ones. I was almost jealous. It was as if, when she came, she was able to quell some insatiable fire inside her. I wondered how long it lasted.To top the impromptu threesome off, Samantha swallowed Brody's load like it was cotton candy. My brain was melting, how that was even possible. But I am sure Eros had developed some sort of cleaning system that allowed this feat to be part of the experience. She swallowed every drop. My face was inches away, jaws aching from taking Brody's cock in it for so long, and I was dripping wet and playing with myself. I finally came, just as Brody was finishing.Before Brody and I left for the night, Brody instructed Samantha to keep our encounter to herself. He shut her off and said the same to me, along with, "I really like you, Sam, but I don't think it's a good idea to have relationships with the staff."I held my hands up. "I never would have even pressed for such a thing, not that I didn't enjoy it! But yeah, Samantha was persistent. I didn't feel like we had a choice."...
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  • The Sex Doll Crime Spree: Part 1

    The Sex Doll Crime Spree: Part 1
    May 14 2025
    The trials and tribulations of sex doll manufacturing.By Anonymous Perv. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Yeah, yeah. You're thinking, 'Who the fuck names their story 'The Sex Doll Crime Spree?', but after you hear this, you'll understand why it fitsThis whole business is madness. I guess when one works at a sex doll factory, one should expect to have a memorable experience here and there, but what happened to me is almost too much to swallow. No pun intended. Allow me to start at the beginning.I didn't want to work at a sex doll factory. It was never an aspiration of mine. I just needed a decent paying job. I had made it through three years of college before dropping out, bored to tears, thanks to my ADHD. The most I got out of that experience was a mountain of debt and a bitter ex-boyfriend. I needed to make more money if I was ever going to get out from under it, so when Brody Pastel offered me a job at 'Brody's Bodies,' I jumped on it.Brody is a good friend of my old boss, Carl Casta. I handled desk duties at his company, Casta Creative. I just refer to them as CC. I did stuff like billing, scheduling, along with the occasional pagination job. I was a glorified office secretary, nothing more. Carl often raved about me, telling Brody things like, "Samantha Dunning is a breath of fresh air!", "We'd be lost without Sam!" On and on. These days, Carl jokes about how he should have kept his stupid mouth shut, because Brody offered me double what I was earning at CC to come work for him. Brody said he'd been through four terrible assistants over two years and needed someone dependable and capable. Carl assured Brody that I met those qualifications and I was grateful to them both for allowing me the opportunity to switch jobs for better pay. However, I was apprehensive about working for a place called Brody's Bodies.There are several high-end manufacturers of sex dolls on the planet. I mean that in the literal sense. Several. Very few. Brody Pastel is considered one of the best in the business, offering sex dolls that can be manipulated and moved like real human bodies, with proper weight and weight distribution (very important, so they say). These dolls can be propped in nearly any position. They can even stand, balancing almost as well as any person would. For this and other reasons, Brody Pastel was considered a genius in the industry.Personally, I'm no fan of the merchandise. All the dolls are made up to look like oversexed Barbie’s, yet with even more ridiculous proportions than those plastic classics. I'm not sure why the physical appearance of the sex dolls bothers me so much, considering they are literal sex objects. I guess I just find it insulting to real women with real figures.I'd probably been working a week or so when I met Jennifer Pastel for the first time. She looked quite a bit like the dolls we sell, with a healthy six figures of plastic surgery performed on her. "Hi, honey. I'm here to see Brody," she said while strolling past my desk at the front of the office."Shall I tell him who;" I tried to stop her, but she was long gone. She walked with confidence, knowing her exact destination."That's Brody's ex, Jennifer," said Pete Unger, behind me. His office was the first past mine, just off the west hallway. He must have just stepped outside his door when Jennifer came in. "Those two are in the midst of a divorce. They still haven't settled their; well, you know; who-gets-what-and-how-much issues; Jennifer thinks she's entitled to more than half.""More than half?""Yeah, she's bat-shit. She was one of our first models, and the doll fashioned after her is still one of our most popular; but that's the most she ever contributed to the company. Jennifer's never actually worked a day in her life.""Oh. How long were they married?""I dunno. A few years, maybe? Let's see; yeah;" Pete looked up, squinting, trying to reach back into his memory banks. Finally, he relaxed and answered, "It would be almost five years, I guess. But for the last year or so, they haven't been around each other very much.""What's going to happen?""I'm sure Brody paid for a good lawyer. This will cost him, but it won't break him.""I hope not." I said."You wouldn't be here otherwise, Miss Harper.""Please, call me Samantha. Or Sam.""Alright, Sam. Brody's a good guy, you'll see. Pays us what we're worth; expects reasonable results in return. You found a good place to plant your feet, career wise.""Really?""I mean it. I'm not just being a cheerleader for the company. Brody is a good leader. Solid guy. I suppose there might be better bosses out there, but they would be hard to find.""That's good to know. Mr. Pastel said he had so much trouble keeping help, I was worried he might be a bit of a tyrant or something.""Brody is no tyrant. We just have the worst luck with finding decent help.""I hope to change that," I said, thinking on it a bit more. Why would anyone perform poorly when this place pays so ...
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  • My Sexy Math-lete

    My Sexy Math-lete
    May 13 2025
    My Sexy Math-lete First time doing the Math Major virgin in a dorm room. Based on a post by ArseGratiaArtis. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. I love math, and I like to think I'm good at it. It wasn't my major, but in my first semester of college I took the standard calculus course everyone in science and engineering takes. I thought I was picking it up fairly well because I could do the homework, and spent more time on my other courses. Then came the first test. We got them back on a Friday just after lunch, and I was shocked. As I stood there looking at the red numbers; 63. Nearly a failing grade, I heard the girl next to me say, "Looks like you maybe got a little overconfident, Jack?" I hadn't wanted her, or anyone else to see the pathetic grade. She was a math major who had sat next to me starting with the second week. She tossed her shoulder-length brown hair back and looked up at me. Until now I hadn't paid a lot of attention to her, even though there weren't many girls in the class, or, for that matter, in this entire university. Pam was quiet, up til now. She was short, at least 40 pounds overweight, and had some self-confidence issues. Her glasses were thicker than mine. But for all that, she was pleasant and friendly, when I talked with her at all, and even more so now that she could see the lousy grade I had gotten. I found that odd; I would have expected she would gloat a little, or not say anything. She showed me her test, with a 98 on the top. She said she had screwed up on one problem. I folded my test in half so nobody else could see the grade; and said, in a low voice that conveyed my disgust with myself and wouldn't be audible too far away, "I screwed up on nearly half of them," and I looked away. I could feel her looking up at me, so I turned back to her. Her deep brown eyes seemed to search mine. "Do you want a little help? I used to do tutoring when I was in high school," she offered, and touched me on the arm. I looked back at her, and down; she was at least a full head shorter than me. My first thought was, "Great. She's thinking of me like some dumb kid." I said, "I don't know, Pam. I think I'll go back to my room and have a look at it, myself." I did that, and by dinnertime I was starting to think that maybe I wasn't all that good at math. Everyone had told me college would be a different game, and now I was made painfully aware of just how different. The scary part was that one of my scholarships required me to maintain a 3.5 GPA or I would be out of there with nowhere to go. Literally. It was too late to go to an easier school, or a less expensive state university, and I had no home to which I could return to, lick my wounds, and try again. I went down to the cafeteria at 6:00, my usual dinnertime, and Pam was at a table with her roommate and another student. She motioned me over, and since my usual group wasn't there, I could hardly refuse and sit by myself. It was a Friday night, so probably half the student body was off campus for the night, if not the weekend. I put my tray down across from hers, since she had called me over, and sat down. I was glad she didn't say anything about the test. She and the others talked about weekend plans and movies, and she asked what I would be doing. "I'll be studying, and I have to work half a day tomorrow." I had a job in the library, shelving books. The other girls left and Pam reiterated her offer to help me with math. After a little consideration, I agreed to go to her room later and work with her. It couldn't hurt, and she was very smart. I spent another 30 minutes in my room after dinner going over one particular ratio problem, and although I got the right answer I had to admit to myself that I didn't really understand it. What got me was that I had done the assigned homework perfectly, but the test was much harder and the professor counted tests much more heavily than homework. I gave up and walked down the stairs, across the quad, up the stairs, and found the dorm room where Pam lived, and knocked. She answered quickly, smiling. She was wearing a white blouse with the top two buttons undone. I could see the cleavage between her huge breasts, and that threw me off for a second. I'm a sucker for breasts, and cleavage is a big turn-on, although I didn't expect to be turned on by her. I recalled that she had been wearing a sweatshirt at dinner, her more usual attire. College girls dress just as grungy as guys, unless they’re “on the prowl”. “Happy weekend, Jack. Congratulations on making it through the week, although I happen to have witnessed a nasty battle scare this afternoon.” She winked. “I’ll bet there’s probably a simple oversight in one of your steps. I’m thinking we can work a couple of the test questions and compare our steps. What do you think?” “I hope so.” I said. "My confidence really took a hit, today.” “I’ll do everything I can to restore your confidence, quickly.” ...
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