Volume 2: Club Soda

Having wiled away an hour or so thinking about the afternoon's sex, I dressed in the short skirt and sleeveless jacket in matching metallic sheen that was my uniform, picked up my little purse and walked the couple of blocks to my regular job.

For several years now, I have been working a half-shift as an assistant greeter in a Machine Sex Club called the Chromium Shaft. I work alternate afternoon and evening shifts, four days a week - short shifts only, as the Club management likes us to be perky and fresh in our roles. Besides, this arrangement gives me plenty of time to enjoy the company of my circle of friends, as well as undertake the occasional delivery job.

I have found it to be a wonderful way of meeting people as I circulate around the Club. The music is always loud, the tips are sometimes generous and often I can end up being enjoyed by so many people that I don't need to eat at all.

Even so, the rules are totally clear: the equipment is for the enjoyment of the paying clientele and we're not supposed to use the machines ourselves. But of course I do sometimes get to demonstrate the toys and games to the guests, if they express a desire - so many people like to watch, after all.

As I arrived at the staff door - around the back of the building, of course - I was greeted by a tiny bird-like figure, the boss's right-hand woman who everyone knew as Kitti. She was wearing her trademark tight-fitting black rubber-look cat-suit and stiletto-heeled boots, fitted tightly to emphasize the curves of her pert breasts and hard nipples. Her pubic mound and vagina lips were equally clearly delineated, an effect highlighted by those regions being colored a flaming crimson.

According to the workplace gossip, the suit consisted almost entirely of automation - there was quite possibly no real fabric in the garment at all. It must have cost a fortune. Kitti was reputed to never remove the suit - the PA effortlessly taking care of all aspects of hygiene and waste disposal.

The suit was capable of supporting her in almost any position her body could adopt, as well as opening (and closing) apertures wherever she so desired, and providing phallic extensions and physical supports on demand. Kitti's cat-suit - together with her own voracious sexual appetite - made her a formidable sexual partner, as least by reputation; I had not yet had the opportunity to find out first-hand.

Kitti reached out a hand as I moved to pass her.

"Ah, Tania," she drawled, "You look perky this evening."

Her hand caressed my breast. As she did so, an extension rapidly forming at her wrist, the material of her suit warping itself to shape a beautifully-formed penis, artfully executed with realistic veining and natural colors. The head of the instantly produced dick pressed briefly against the lips of the cunt between my tits, then slipped into my still-wet opening, just once.

I suppressed a gasp. Kitti's eyes closed briefly, a slow blink.

"You've been busy, I see," she said, smiling sardonically, "But, knowing you, I doubt it will reduce your enthusiasm for your job."

"Oh, no," I replied earnestly, "I can't tell you how horny I feel working here makes me."

"Very good," she said nodding, her smile twisting her lips, "Carry on."

I turned to go. As I did so, Kitti slid her hand under the hem of my short skirt to pat me on the ass, the stiff dick at her wrist slipping inside me once again.

"Yes, I thought so," she added, "Such a slut."

"Thank you, Ma'am" I answered, grinning widely, and went to work with a spring in my step. I like to get compliments from the management.

I dumped by purse in my cubbyhole in the staff area, put on my most winning and helpful expression and stepped out to assist the guests.

Some of the Club's machines are extremely retro, all shining metal rods and toothed wheels, driven by bulky and old-fashioned electrical motors. Of course this is all just part of the appeal, for some people. I passed one alcove near the entrance where two bronzed and muscular men with shaved heads were enjoying Old Faithful.

One man was kneeling on the bench in front of the machine, strapped in place with belts around his ankles and behind his knees, the glisteningly oiled red plastic dildo which was attached to Old Faithful's reciprocating arm sliding slowing but inexorably deep into and out of the man's ass. On each powerful thrust, the kneeling man was forced forward. His companion was taking advantage of this movement to fuck him in the mouth, Old Faithful's rythymic movements forcing his cock deep into other's throat.

Both customers appeared to be enjoying themselves, and each other. The kneeling man was supporting himself on one hand and wanking himself steadily with the other, in time with the machine behind him and thrusts of his lover's cock in his mouth. The boys did not look like they needed any assistance, so I just watched appreciatively for a moment or two before moving on.

Part 2

Part 4