Naughty On the Sales Floor
Naughty on the sales floor
Felekar
This story was a quick exercise. Rather than just toss it out, I presented it to you in all its unedited glory.
It has now been edited courtesy of Yoru of SoFurry, enjoy.
"Alright, do I have everything? Let's see, knot ring?" The tall red fox, Felekar, stood naked in his bathroom, going through a checklist out loud. "Check. Ball stretcher?" As he counted them off, he touched them in turn, and all the while he watched himself move in the wall-length mirror. "Sheath-clamp?" The vulpine peered down to ensure it was secured properly. It was a device that confined the lip of ones sheath to allow only a thin fraction of tip to poke free, enough to urinate, while at the same time it gave the feeling of a paw wrapped firm around your sheath, and it was weighted so the more one moved, the more it jostled. "A final little touch..." A toy was snatched from the counter before him, and with a practised motion the naughty vulp had it lubed and slipped under his tail. Muscles flexed internally to set it in the right position, and so he was satisfied.
"... Prostate stimulator," he flexed and a shiver flew right down the length of his tail, "Check."
Finally he looped a tiny titanium chain among them all and locked the ends together and set the key on the counter. His pre-work routine went on from there as usual while he did his best to ignore the constant stimulation from his toys. He had not tried anything like this before, not this far. In the past he'd gone to his job, a simple sales position that had him running about all day, with one or another of his teasing toys on, but never all at once. Even by the time he got dressed his shaft was straining at its confines. It took quite a bit of willpower to keep from humping at the inside of his boxers, and he had not even begun his day.
With a flutter of his tail, an attempt to smooth the fur a touch, the fox set off outside, climbed on his bike, and pedalled off to his job. All along the way the toy inside him ground back and forth over his prostate, both internally, and externally with an arm that hooked over to rub against it from outside as well. It was a slight struggle to keep his vision from going blurry half-way there, so he stood and kept pedalling.
It barely helped.
He arrived panting, with his ears flush, though that seemed his usual state upon entry to the air conditioned building. Another quiver rolled through his hips as he walked to the back of the store and punched in.
Eight hours to go now, and there was no way out.
The first hour was calm enough, he just had to tidy an aisle, so he got into a rhythm and just went along with it all, though his attention was diverted from his task every few minutes to take a few calming breaths. His fur already felt damp just at the lip of his sheath, which only made it easier for him to squirm in the right way to stimulate himself further. He had to be careful though, it would not be easy to explain to a customer what he was doing humping the air while organizing envelopes.
Another hour passed without incident, and he managed a short break away from the floor. Right away he retreated to a restroom stall and nearly tore off his pants in his hurry. The tip of his shaft was shunted against the toy to its limits, but it held firm and just stretched his sheath upward to compensate. His knot was well swollen, trapped in its stretched, fleshy home. A naughty paw wrapped around himself and he humped at it a few times, jaw hung open in a long, shuddering, quiet moan.
The fox was thankful not another soul was in the room with him when he reached down and adjusted the toy inside him. "Six more hours of this..." His ears laid flat, and he let out a delighted little rumble. As best he could, the vulpine put off his pent up need, and relieved his bladder before a short sit in the break room.
A pair of busy hours flew by as he fought to keep himself focused on the task before him, just another aisle, though with more people in the store. Every few minutes he would be pulled away by someone or another to ask where something was in the store. He was certain those with a sensitive nose could smell how aroused he was, but he just hoped they put it off to him being a fox, as it was the case.
His lunch-break was spent outside in the sun with a sandwich. He ate next to a rather loud and busy road, so that while he rocked and ground himself against the bench he could moan and murr and not a soul would hear him. It took all his willpower to not pound himself down and try to just achieve orgasm right then and there. He went back in even more worked up than he started.
"Hey fox, grab a till, you're up there til closing." It was his manager, a rather nice, but imposing, wombat a head taller than himself. Of course, he just got right to it as expected. Before he had the option of moving about the store, or the chance to adjust himself when there was nobody around, but now he was at check out, the cashier. There was no chance to get away, no time he did not have eyes upon him. For the next four hours he had to act like everything was perfectly normal, even with a hard-on that threatened to pop at the right provocation.
Customer after customer came and left, and he just did his job, thankful for every credit transaction that did not make him count anything, things were hard enough as it was. Some came though with pets from the store next door, others with their children after school, on both matters he was thankful for the counter between himself and them.
With an hour to go before closing, an another hour before he went home the fox felt a sense he was nearly nearly home free, when a couple walked in. It was just a pair of river otters, a man and his elderly mother, and at his side was a rather sizable German Shepard. They asked him directly to help them with a chair, and he was obliged to help them. All the while he led them though that department, the dog kept sniffing toward him. While the woman paid no attention, her focus on the chair she wanted, the fox did not get quite so lucky with her partner.
A grin of mischief glanced the otter's face as he slacked the leash while his wife was not looking, and the vulpine was not expecting it. The Shepard took to the end of the slack he was given, and buried his nose right in against the scented bulge. The yelp caught in his throat as he jumped to his toes and his ears blushed red, in shock for a moment, though unable to bring himself to push the dog away. The keeper of his lead pulled him back to his side and looked the fox right in the eye, grinned, and without a word snatched a card from his pocket, scrawled something on the back and slipped it into he clerk's shirt pocket. The vulpine got wrapped up in the teasing and sale so much he forgot it was there.
The last hour went by far too slow, but passed none-the-less. It was not until he got back into his bathroom and stripped that he remembered the card. It had fallen to the floor between his feet. The front was a simple design with the name and address to a kennel near by. He left it there for the moment as he reached to the counter reflexively for a key that was not there.
He searched for twenty minutes, but it was nowhere. Not until he looked under the cabinets did he grab the card off the floor. On the back was a simple phrase.
"Want the key? Come."