SEXUALNESS UNBUNGED

The door swings open to reveal velvet-lined walls, a deep shag red carpet and the kind of fine furniture you'd hope for in a high-class brothel.

You step through.

Inside, there's a smell of expensive aftershave mingling with the dryness of conditioned air. A fan beats slowly above, mixing the particles but doing little to cool you off. The empty desk across the room is clear of clutter and looks aesthetic more than functional. You stand still, waiting for an attendant.

Time passes.

A hidden door in the panelled far wall opens. The only noise it makes is the faint brushing of what must be new carpet hairs. A woman steps through; completely naked, looking like a skinny catwalk model with a machine-like perfection to every curve and angle, and with just the right gawk to her grace to make her seem fashionably careless. It's certainly warm enough to walk around nude in here, but you feel a tingle of uncomfortable excitement at the secret promise of things to come...

"Welcome to Vagi-Cock. I'm Stephanie. Unless you want to call me something else..."

The woman is half-sitting on the desk. You allow yourelf the luxury of a mental sensation - her firm skin pressing against the polished hardwood. Mmmm.

"So, first things first. What do you want to be called today?"

"Clintoris please." you mumble.

An unblinking pause. She glances up and to her right, then levels her eyes at you again.

"Will it be the ususal?"

You roll forwards to the floor and clutch at your buttocks, squealing quietly. A sound like tiny elephants emanates from your choked throat. The woman walks across the lushious carpet toawrds you and stands over your prone curled body. You whimper, and avoid looking up.
There was a time when this kind of excitement was too much to bear, but these days it's almost mundane. You close your eyes to hide your obvious boredom, even though it occurs to you that her manner, cliched cool all swank and swagger, seems to almost radiate apathy. By this one could assume that to share in such blandness would build a rapport... But then again is rapport really what you want in this room, right now, clutching around on the expensive new carpet? No. What you want is a damn good mocking.

"You idiot!" she screams. "Stupid, mild-mannered, impolite little petri-scraping!" This insult is a new one.

You roll onto your back, still holding your bum cheeks, as your naked tormentor squats closer in a pose so undignified as to completely shrivel any sense of sexuality. A tiny fart slips out, but she seems to succesfully ignore it. She points at your face, right at your eye.

"Gaaaaaaa." it is a baby-like noise, and she lets a little drool come out when she makes it. It reminds you of the old lady you were rolling through the grass with on the way here. How she stopped you at the bus stop, and lurched melodramatically towards you with her ham in her little fist. How she helped herself to your fruit, and as you were wrapped in each others' skin how she seemed to dwell on those naughty thoughts, pressing you for a flight of fancy that would open her a little more, making her feel young again. You wore her clothes after that romp, so now as this astonishingly mechanical beauty is crouching into your face, you are wearing a tabbard and some pea-soup tights. It's almost enough on it's own, but to get the push you really need, you had to come to Tauntation Motel. Besides, your membership expires in a week, and you know you needed to maximise your opportunity to use the place. It costs enough.

"Peng peng peng. Map mop." She lies down next to you and begins to pull at the carpet. You join in, knowing the protocol. It's boring, but this is what you paid for.