Everything Conveys
The condo is staged quite nicely, really. Chic modern furniture in the living and dining room, high end finishes in the kitchen, tasteful art on the walls, a luxury king size bed in the master bedroom and of course, the naked woman lying atop it while frantically fingering her pussy with one hand and playing with her nipples with the other.
A few weeks ago, the condo hadn’t been for sale and the woman currently mindlessly rubbing herself to edge after edge after edge had been its owner. She doesn’t remember how she was having trouble with her surround sound system a couple of months before that and had called in a handyman to fix the problem. Nor does she remember the way he’d commented on how nice her place was and if she ever intended to sell it he had a friend in the real estate business. He’d left her the friend’s card and she’d tucked it away in a drawer with no intention of calling...but she doesn’t remember any of that either.
Her sound system, she’d noticed at the time, seemed to work perfectly after the handyman left. But she didn’t notice the subliminal noises just at the edge of her hearing or the subtle patterns underlying the image every time she watched the television. She didn’t notice those things seemed to have been happening with her computer and smartphone as well. What she did come to notice was how she eventually started to find herself stripping off her clothes as soon as she came home so she could shove her hand (or her favorite vibrator) between her legs as soon as possible. How not long after that she’d stopped streaming popular TV but porn instead.
Lots of porn.
She’d started losing focus at work, spending more time squeezing her thighs together under her desk for some stimulation and wondering when she might be able to sneak away to the bathroom for a quick play session than actually doing her job. Her clothes got more revealing. There came a time when she threw out all of her panties just in case one of the men at work she kept eyeing appreciatively noticed what a slut they had in their midst and wanted to fuck her. She doesn’t remember how she got on her knees in front of her boss and told him how wet she was and begged him to let her suck his cock. Very soon after she had been politely escorted from the building and sent home, told firmly never to come back, and that her last check would come by certified mail. She doesn’t remember that either.
Being out of a job had certainly put her in an unfortunate situation. Nice condos weren’t cheap and she had had a mortgage to pay.
Wouldn’t it be better, she’d thought wistfully, if she didn’t have to do anything like that? If it just became somebody else’s problem and she didn’t to worry about it at all?
It wasn’t long after that thought trickled through her mind that she’d lunged for her junk drawer, pawing around in it until she found the business card left behind by that nice handyman who’d admired her place. And her tits, she’d been pretty sure.
She should have let him fuck her.
Seconds later, she’d dialed the number breathlessly and been thrilled when a confident male voice answered and assured her his company could help her deal with her problem.
The very next day the man, fuck he was hot, had arrived to tour her condo. He’d introduced himself as a real estate agent representing a company that dealt with unique real estate situations and luxury properties like hers.
Being alone with him in the condo had made her wonder if she should offer to let him fuck her, if that would move the whole process along more quickly. Not that she’d needed to worry on that count, he’d arrived prepared with a sheaf of papers in his briefcase.
If she’d been thinking clearly instead of about what his cock might look like she might have realized that this was definitely not how real estate transactions were handled.
“I’ve marked all the places you need to sign and initial,” he had said, “it’s all quite standard legalese. I’ve taken the liberty of including a clause that says all furnishings will convey on sale so you don’t have to worry your pretty little head over what to do with those either.”
She’d been grateful he’d thought of so much on her behalf she didn’t even bother to try to read what she was signing.
He’d been kind enough to let her suck him off afterward so she could show just how much she appreciated his efforts to take care of her.
It didn’t matter to her that she’d just sold her condo to him for a pittance or that the power of attorney papers that she had also signed gave his company control over all of her bank accounts such that it really didn’t matter anyway.
What had mattered to her was him telling her she was welcome to stay in the condo until better arrangements for her could be found and that in the meantime she might enjoy the entertainment he’d found for her to play on her devices. Pretty spirals, flashing colors, and entrancing music had definitely proven to be enjoyable.
They didn’t need to be subtle about what they were doing to her anymore, after all.
So she became more and more focused on keeping her pussy dripping wet and doing whatever she needed to do to please men (and their cocks). Her mind was leaking out of her pussy, the music told her, and she believed it. She didn’t need to remember who she’d been anymore, so she didn’t. All that she needed to do, all she needed to think about, was what she was told. Nothing more.
The woman doesn’t remember any of this anymore. She doesn’t remember much of anything at all. Remembering doesn’t matter and her little mind can’t hold much anyway. Better to focus on chasing the orgasm she can never quite reach, on images of cocks she wants to suck, and the cum leaking out of them she wants to taste. That’s definitely more important for a needy slut like her to think about when she does any thinking at all.
That focus, of course, means she doesn’t notice the two men in the room watching her.
The helpful agent who’d bought her condo from her does indeed deal in unique real estate and luxury properties. And just now he’s been providing a tour to an older gentleman in a classy tailored suit who is watching the woman with great interest. “So who is she again?”
The agent scoffs, “no one anymore. We call her Sugartits. If you choose to buy the condo you can of course call her whatever you want.” He offers a brochure to his prospective buyer, “there are further options we can provide for an extra fee, if you desire. Currently she’s something of a blank slate that will do anything you say. A breathing blow-up doll, perhaps, if you’ll excuse the crudeness of the metaphor. But as you can see there’s a bimbo package, a pet package, a Lolita package, and several others. In addition, we offer various body modificatons you may be interested in. Some of these come included with the other packages such as the blonde hair and breast and lip augmentations if you choose the bimbo upgrade. But a la carte is more than acceptable. Unlike some other organizations our modifications encompass a much broader range than the average, from salon work and plastic surgery to things like lactation and dental adjustments.”
He looks dispassionately down at the woman still mindlessly rubbing herself to yet another almost-orgasm as she whimpers and mewls softly in a haze of need and arousal. The bed linens would have to be changed after this tour was completed, he thinks. “I realize that the requested sale price for this home may seem a bit steep on its surface but there are a great many bonuses that can be had here you will not find anywhere else. And with her particular stamina, you could set a camera in front of her to stream for hours without stop. I’m quite certain you will find many willing to pay a fee to watch and so she might even pay for herself, as it were. You could certainly consider it a sort of...passive income.
Turning his gaze from the woman now gasping and squirming but obviously not reaching climax the buyer looks at the agent. “How exactly do you keep her from orgasming and losing interest?”
Smiling, the agent shakes his head slightly, “I apologize, sir, but that is a trade secret. Suffice to say she is in such a state that she can no longer climax without permission from her owner. Who is, at the moment, me. Would you care to see a demonstration?”
Nodding, the buyer raises his eyebrows, “if I’m going to pay so much, I might as well get some idea of its worth.”
“Very good, sir,” the agent responds as he leans over the whining woman on the bed, snapping his fingers in front of his eyes to get her attention, “Sugartits, doll. You need to pay attention.”
Blearily, her gaze focuses on him, “M-master?”
The agent smiles patronizingly and pats her on the head, “yes, Sugartits, your Master is here. You’ve been very good playing for us so long.”
Being told how good she is, the woman can’t hold back a shudder and a moan, doesn’t even try.
“Now,” he says firmly, “take your hands away from your cunt and spread your legs wide.”
Shaking a little, the woman called Sugartits complies.
“Good girl,” the agent says again, eliciting another moan. “Now, doll, there’s something very important I want you to do for me.” He glances back at the buyer, smirks slightly, and doesn’t look down at the woman on the bed. “Cum for me, Sugartits, do it now.”
The sentence is barely complete before the orgasm crashes over her like a breaking wave and she screams and moans and shudders with the force of it. Through it all, she manages to hold her legs spread as she was told, keeping her pussy’s needy twitching on display. Straightening, the agent brushes at some invisible lint on his suit jacket before gesturing for the buyer to follow him back to the living area, “now, sir, would you like to talk about your purchase options or would you prefer to see another property we have for sale?”
Left behind, the slut on the bed has already begun massaging her breasts before she starts fingering herself all over again. No thoughts are there to clutter her mind, only the urgent need to stay wet.