Ditz Ditz Revolution

by Mesmerciless

Tags: #dom:male #exhibitionism #f/m #multiple_partners #pov:bottom #sub:female #bimbo #bimbofication #blowjob #brain_drain #brainwashed #brainwashing #fucked_stupid #iq_drop #masturbation #slutification

An arcade game helps Rory dance her cares (and brain) away.

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Rory almost didn’t recognize her at first glance.

Sure, it had been a while since she had seen Sam, but the woman walking into diner didn’t even move the way Rory’s old high school friend did. She practically bounced past the empty beige booths with every step, her coat open and proud, revealing a mini-skirt and scoop-necked top that showed off her curvy, tan figure, despite the chilly Wisconsin autumn outside.

“Rory!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms wide as she drew near. “Ohmigod you actually came back!”

Rory fumbled to stand, only getting halfway before Sam embraced her in a tight squeeze. “I missed you so much!” the exuberant hugger squealed.

“Eh, I uh, missed you too,” Rory managed to sputter as her friend released her.

“This is so, so exciting,” Sam giggled, taking a seat. “You’re working in Chicago now, right? What’s life in the big city like?”

“Er, it was good,” Rory paused, brushing a strand of her long red hair behind her ear. “But, you know. Busy. And difficult.”

“Wait, ‘was?’” Sam repeated, frowning with concern. “What do you mean? I thought you lived there.”

Rory hesitated, cursing her Freudian slip. She hadn’t planned to open their reunion this way but, well…she supposed a woman as sharp as Sam would figure it out eventually. “I actually left a couple weeks ago. For good.”

Sam’s dark brown eyes widened with shock. “So, wait, are you saying this isn’t, like, just a visit? This is, like…for good?”

“W-well,” Rory rubbed her arm, “until I can figure something out anyway.” She looked away, cheeks reddening with shame. This was a mistake. If Sam didn’t already hate her for all the missed calls and texts, she would definitely despise her now. After years of little-no-contact, this was how Rory came back? With nothing to show for all the distance she put between them? If Sam laughed and left right then and there, Rory would hardly blame her.

But, to the humiliated graduate’s surprise, she felt the soft warmth of Sam’s hand rest on hers. “Tell me everything,” the auburn-haired angel advised.

That was all it took for the dam to break.

Words and feelings spilled out of Rory faster than she could process, about how much of a disaster the past few years had been. About how the reason she hadn’t called or visited while in college was because she was so tired and busy all the time. About how she had sacrificed friendships and fun for a 4.0 GPA, only to realize she didn’t even want a degree in business in the first place. About how her move to Chicago was one of post-grad desperation, a waste of time and money that had pushed tensions with her parents to a breaking point. About how she was only 23, and it already felt like she had wasted her life.

That last bit elicited a gentle laugh from Sam. “Aw, Ro-ro, that’s so not true and you know it.”

Despite herself, Rory laughed too. Only Sam go to call her that, and she had forgotten how much she missed it. “I guess not,” she admitted. “But I dunno…I feel like I spent four years and thousands of dollars to figure out who I am, only to realize I still don’t know.”

Sam let out a murmur of sympathy before the conversation lapsed into silence. Rory shifted awkwardly, feeling a little abashed about dumping years’ worth of grievances on her unsuspecting friend.

“But enough about my problems,” Rory said, forcing herself to smile. “How are things with you? You look like you’re doing amazing.”

“Aw, thank you!” Sam beamed. “It’s true though. Like, I don’t want to brag, but things have been…like, super good for me lately.”

Rory nodded, still caught between being impressed and unnerved by her friend’s new groove. Sam had always been more of a shy, nerdy type, the sort to stay up for a Doctor Who marathon rather than an all-night rager. It had really devastated her when she found out she couldn’t afford college, a reaction that turned resentful when Rory got into her first choice school. The last time Rory saw Sam, she had sunken into a funk of depression and drugs, working stoned retail shifts while Rory was finishing her honor’s thesis.

But oh, how the tables had turned. Now Sam was the fresh-faced gal with the glowing skin and sparkling eyes; meanwhile Rory needed two cups of coffee just to finish her makeup.

Rory sighed. “I have to ask: what’s your secret? What turned it all around?”

“It’s gonna sound really weird but…” Sam wiggled excitedly in her seat and cast a look over her shoulder, as if privy to some irresistible secret. “Do you remember that arcade we used to go to as kids? The one on Main Street?”

“Joystick Joe’s?” Rory asked, incredulous. “Wait, is that place still open?”

Sam bobbed her head up and down. “Uh-huh! I go there every day!”

Rory blinked, baffled. “And…how does that explain the, uh, the glow-up?”

“Well…” Sam bit her fingernail. “Um…how much time do you have? It’s a lot easier to show than tell, y’know?”

Rory hesitated. She had told her parents she would be home soon for dinner, but her curiosity had been piqued. There was something both intriguing and unsettling about Sam’s demeanor, a nagging mystery that would keep Rory up at night unless she got to the bottom of it.

“Okay,” Rory agreed. “Show me.”

True to Sam’s word and against all odds, the blue neon sign of Joystick Joe’s was blinking just as brightly as Rory remembered. The storefront, however, had seen better days: the windows were dusty and cracked, and displayed warped, faded standees for games whose publishers had long since gone bankrupt.

It wasn’t the most welcoming of sights but, Rory had to admit, there was something quaintly nostalgic about it. And it was more endearing than the “for lease” signs stretching down the rest of the leaf-strewn streets.

The arcade proper was actually down a set of stairs in an expansive basement: a dark, cavernous room filled with flashing lights and 8-bit sounds. In the past, a cacophony of chatter and laughter would’ve also reached Rory as she entered; now, its absence made her wonder if the place was abandoned, and Sam had claimed it as her new home.

That notion was dispelled, however, when Rory saw a familiar, muscular man tinkering with the D.O.A. 2 cabinet.

“Heeeey Joe!” Sam sang.

Rory almost laughed. Of course the eponymous “Joystick” Joe would still be here: if anyone was going to survive an apocalypse, even an economic one, it would be him. He was a towering figure, with huge arms, close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair, and the ability to reboot any machine with a swift smack to the casing. The last few years had definitely added some lines to his face, but the shark’s smile he flashed still gleamed with a dangerous cunning, the kind Rory used to see before he hustled some poor teens in Street Fighter II.

“Hey Sammi,” his gruff voice barked. “You brought a friend this time. Fantastic.”

“Sammi?” Rory threw a disbelieving glance to her friend.

“It’s just what Joe calls me.” Sam winked. “Cute, right?”

“Uh, sure,” Rory lied, flabbergasted. She thought she was the only one who could call Sam that. Wasn’t that the whole point of those stupid, diminutive pet names? That they were only used ironically between best friends?

Sam gestured to Rory. “Joe, this is—”

“Hold on, let me guess,” Joe interrupted, scanning Rory’s features. “You used to come in here all the time a few years ago right? Tall girl, bright red hair, too good at the claw machine…it’s Rory right?”

Rory blushed. “Y-yep that’s me.”

“Ha ha!” he clapped his massive palms. “I knew I could get it. Did Sammi bring you here for the new machine?”

“Joooeee,” Sam whined with a comical pout. “I was gonna surprise her.”

“Oops.” Joe turned to Rory with an exaggerated grimace. “Forget I said anything. You girls go have fun. I’ll be at my station if you need me.”

He grabbed his tools and marched away, vanishing in the direction of the combination snack / prize counter. Rory shook her head at the bleak wonder of it all. When she was a teenager, Joe was like a figure of legend, an intimidating titan who could eject cheaters and loudmouths with a single look. Now he was a middle-aged loner trapped in an outdated husk of a life. Though, Rory thought gloomily as Sam lead her onward, maybe she wasn’t one to judge at this point.

“We’re heeeere!” Sam announced, stopping in front of some sort of rhythm game jammed awkwardly into a corner. The curved support bars and four-direction step controls made Rory mistake it for an old Dance Dance Revolution machine at first. And then she saw the title screen.

“‘Ditz Ditz Revolution?’” she read aloud in disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“It’s silly, right?” Sam giggled, hopping up on the dancing platform. “Joe told me it’s some kinda, like, bootleg he got for super cheap. It works just like normal DDR, though. Only better.”

“Better how?” Rory asked, stepping up beside her. It certainly wasn’t going to be in the technical department: the colors in the CRT monitor were already fading, and the metal dance floors were scuffed and worn. Even if it came “super cheap,” Rory suspected the seller got the better end of the bargain.

“Just watch,” Sam winked, inserting a couple quarters into the machine. Each coin elicited a bone-shaking “THOOM”, starling Rory at first. At least the speakers had some life on them, even if the quality was beginning to crackle.

Sam pressed the start button and gestured to the screen. “Voila!”

Rory squinted, not sure what she was supposed to be seeing. But then it hit her.

The song list was amazing.

“T-this is…” she gasped. “This must have, like, every dance game soundtrack ever on it!”

“Uh-huh,” Sam nodded proudly. “Feels like a crime to have this much music on one machine.”

“Actually, it probably is,” Rory remarked. “There’s no way whoever made this got the rights to all of these tracks.”

“Oh, poo!” Sam stuck out her tongue. “Stop worrying about boring stuff and just pick a song already!”

Rory laughed. “You got it.” She slapped the “select” button.

Upbeat J-pop filled their ears as arrows began flying up the screen. Despite the game’s cruddy tech and sketchy origins, Rory couldn’t stop herself from grinning. It was just like playing Dance Dance Revolution with Sam in high school, back when the two girls could spend all day and night at the arcade together, nothing on their minds but having as much fun as possible. Rory laughed as the song came to a close, her spirits buoyed by a powerful current of nostalgia and delight.

Was that why Sam had said this machine changed her life? If she was spending every day here getting exercise instead of getting wasted, Rory could see how that would have a transformative effect.

Still, as the two dancers hit the last note of their third and final song, Rory wasn’t sure the machine would do the same for her. No matter how light on her feet she was, the problems weighing her down still felt as heavy as ever. A trip down memory lane didn’t change that.

Then a message flashed on the screen: “BONUS STAGE UNLOCKED!”

“Oooh!” Sam clapped excitedly. “I knew we’d get it!”

“What’d we do?” Rory asked, confused.

“You know how, like, sometimes these games give you bonus songs if you do really good in them? This game does that too, but it, like, messes up a lot and gives you a bonus even if you suck!” she laughed.

“Oh, nice.” Rory turned towards the screen, curious to see what song Ditz Ditz Revolution chose for its bonus stage. To her disappointment, however, it was one she had never heard of: a pastel-pink track called “Good Girl.”

“What is this?” she asked as bubblegum beats bounded out of the speakers.

“Uh, only like the best song ever,” Sam answered, eagerly bouncing on her toes. “You’ll see.”

“Sure…” Rory muttered skeptically as the first steps came into view. She hit them perfectly, the patterns surprisingly sparse and simple. Right-right-right-right…down-down-down-down…was this a joke? This was the secret bonus song for expert performers?

At least the background visualizations were cool: an ever-changing series of colorful patterns that pulsed in time with the music. Even without a HD screen, Rory found the depth and detail amazing. It was almost impossible to tear her focus away, yet some peripheral, instinctual part of her was still able to follow the step commands as they scrolled by. The effect was completely captivating, a feeling like she was using all of her mind while not thinking at all.

It helped the song was so catchy too. The repetitive melody, infectious rhythms, and chirpy singing meant that she was bobbing her head along before the first chorus had even concluded. She just wished the lyrics were a bit clearer—the tinny, messy quality of the vocaloid singer made picking out individual words impossible.

By the end of the song, Rory found herself out of breath and light-headed, yet strangely exhilarated. “That felt, like…like…”

So good, right?” Sam beamed.

“Yeah, so good.” Rory returned the goofy grin. For some reason, those words sent a burst of giddiness through her, a heady rush like she used to feel whenever she suddenly understood a complicated problem at school. Only here, the lesson couldn’t have been simpler: dancing felt so good.

Her mood darkened, however, when she felt a pair of eyes sliding down her backside. She turned to see a young, skinny man with messy black hair standing nearby and starring at her.

“Uh, can I help you?” Rory crossed her arms, annoyed.

The man recoiled, as if surprised Rory would think to address him. “E-er s-sorry,” he stammered. “It’s j-just um,” he nodded towards Sam, “she usually comes alone.”

“And how does that give you the right to just stand there and leer at us?” Rory demanded.

“Aw, it’s okay Ro-ro,” Sam stepped in between them with an abashed smile. “It’s just Harrison. He likes to watch me sometimes. No big deal.”

“‘No big deal?’” Rory repeated, incredulous. “Since when do you go for that kind of attention?”

“Hey,” Harrison protested, “what do you mean ‘that kind of attention?’”

“You know exactly what I mean,” Rory shot back. “You—”

Focus on the screen, Ro-ro,” Sam interrupted. “I’ve started another round."

Oops. Rory turned back just in time as the next song started, Harrison’s presence fading into the background. Three tracks came and went like before, save for the occasional pause for Sam to send a wink or wave Harrison’s way. Rory rolled her eyes, but decided it was harmless fun. If Sam wanted to bask in male attention, who was Rory to get in her way?

As the scores tallied up, a familiar message appeared: “BONUS STAGE UNLOCKED!”

“Wow,” Rory exhaled, realizing that she had been holding her breath for some reason.

“See!” Sam exclaimed. “I told you, it’s, like, every time!”

Rory couldn’t suppress an excited smile. Even though it was such an easy song, her pulse was racing with anticipation for “Good Girl” to begin.

The opening chords played, and once again Rory found herself swept away. The syrupy sweet sounds filled her ears while the cascading visuals flooded her eyes, leaving her adrift on an entrancing feeling of bliss. Nothing else could reach her—nothing could shatter the simple joy of her body in movement.

Focus on the screen

Feels so good…

Rory stumbled a little when the beats finally stopped, a stray giggle bubbling out of her. Even though the song had ended, it still felt like there was an echo of it in her head, the notes bouncing through her brain over and over again.

“Wanna do another?” Sam offered.

“Uh, yes, please!” Rory clapped. She had to hand it to Sam: this was definitely better than normal DDR.

And way more addictive, too.

As Sam bent over to put in more quarters, Rory chanced a glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, Harrison was still there, blatantly looking up her friend’s skirt. He flinched when he realized Rory had seen him, but she just stuck out her tongue and laughed. Even if he annoyed her earlier, she just couldn’t stay mad at him. It seemed so silly when she was having so much fun.

It wasn’t like she could blame him anyway: Sam did have a really, really nice ass. And…was she wearing a thong?

“Okay!” Sam straightened. “Ro-ro, you got a song you wanna play next?”

“Nn-nn,” Rory shook her head, still bobbing to the faint traces of “Good Girl” reverberating in her ears.

“What about you, Harrison?” Sam asked with a cheeky smirk. “Wanna choose for us?”

“Uh, sure,” Harrison nodded.

Sam gestured for Harrison to step up and select the song. Rory arched her eyebrows skeptically, but didn’t press the issue. Sure, it was weird, but raising a stink would just make it take longer to get to the bonus stage.

Besides, having Harrison so close gave Rory the chance to really get a good look at him. And, upon second appraisal…Rory decided he was a lot easier on the eyes than she had thought. He was a little wiry, sure, but there was something kinda enticing about the way his v-neck t-shirt hung on his slight body, making her wonder how it looked underneath.

Harrison lifted his hands from the controls as the cursor settled. “Is this one okay?” he asked.

Rory looked at the screen. The track he had selected was a slow, easy lounge jam—the kind that beginners picked when they were still learning the game. She was about to object to such a boring choice, when Sam piped up.

“Ahhh I knew you would pick this one!” the bouncy brunette exclaimed. “It’s, like, his favorite,” she added to Rory with a sly smirk.

The song started up, and Rory readied herself to plod through the motions. To her surprise, though, Sam wasn’t in her usual playing stance. Instead, she was swaying in time to the beat, her hips flowing in slow, sexy circles. Rory had to focus on the screen as the arrows came up, but she could still tell that Sam wasn’t too concerned with hitting the right steps. Instead, she was taking the opportunity to put on a little show, running her hands up and down her curvaceous body, turning and bending over to make sure Harrison could see all the way down her ample cleavage.

Rory tried to ignore the provocative performance, but the heat rising through her body made it impossible. Even as she felt embarrassed, her humiliation was tinged by an undeniable, unexplainable arousal. Sam wasn’t just doing a little strip-tease for Harrison: she was offering herself to him, licking her lips as though intoxicated by his attention.

And, when the song ended and Rory saw Harrison’s eyes fixed on her friend, a horrible realization struck her.

She felt kind of jealous of Sam.

Rory continued to stew in those feelings as the next song played. As much as she hated to admit it, it was impossible to enjoy the game now without Harrison’s eyes on her backside. She wanted him to look at her; wanted him to watch her the way he watched Sam. Maybe it was because Rory hadn’t gotten laid in a while, or maybe she was more attracted to Harrison than she realized. But whatever the reason: she wanted him to hunger for her, to long for her body the same way he clearly lusted for Sam’s.

“Um, Harrison?” Rory asked after the song ended, resting a finger on her lip. “Would you mind, like, picking the next song for us too?”

“S-sure, okay,” Harrison replied.

“And make it an easy one, please,” Rory added, running her hands down her hips and rubbing her thighs. “My legs are, like, soooo tired.”

Harrison hesitated, then tore his eyes away and quickly made a selection. Rory noticed with some satisfaction that his dismount from the platform was an awkward one, on account of the massive erection straining his pants.

“You slut,” Sam covertly teased as the song started. “I saw what you did there, Ro-ro.”

Rory smiled uneasily, trying to ignore the pride swelling inside her. She wasn’t usually one to play the “dumb, horny co-ed” card, but she had to admit: it felt really good. Better than she expected.

Nothing feels better than feeling sexy, she thought. She paused, blinking. For some reason, that phrase had felt kinda funny flitting through her head just then. It came with the same giddy sense of discovery as before, but there was something…off about it.

It felt like an intrusive thought, she couldn’t shake. Like a song she couldn’t get out of her head…

Sam had begun her revealing routine again, gradually tugging her skirt higher and higher up her thick, luscious legs. That meant Rory had to step up. Proud as she was of her tight, firm ass, she knew her small breasts and slight hips meant there was no way she could compete with Sam in the curves category. Fortunately, that wasn’t the only way to win.

Fighting back her nerves, she hooked her fingers into the hem of her chunky-knit sweater, pulling it out and working it up her body in time to the music. Finally, she lifted the thick wool over her head, tossing it aside as she swung her bright red hair over her shoulder.

The cool air pressed in on her bare, pale shoulders, her tight t-shirt doing little to keep her warm. But that didn’t matter: what mattered was the way the fabric clung to her stiff nipples, the way her tits visibly jiggled as she jumped up and down to hit the right notes. She could see Harrison watching her out of the corner of her eye, her arousal building with each beat. She looked over her shoulder with an inviting glance, daring him to grab her. To take her. She wasn’t even sure she would stop him if he tried.

She missed the final steps and got a terrible score. But Rory didn’t care. Her body felt like it was glowing, alight with sweet, sensual victory. She turned to say something to Harrison, but stopped when the familiar sounds of the bonus stage met her ears.

She pivoted automatically in sync with Sam. Harrison could wait—she needed to focus on the screen. Fortunately, the pulsing visuals pressing against her half-lidded eyes made that easy. Heck, it was hard to do anything else.

As “Good Girl” came to a close, Rory faintly became aware of Harrison clapping behind her. It was hard to make out over the echo in her head though. Was it just her, or did it the song sound clearer this time? If Rory didn’t think too hard, she felt like she could even recall some of the lyrics.

‘Cause all girls wanna be good girls

And good girls wanna have fun

‘Cause nothing feels better than feeling sexy

And the sexiest kind of feeling’s—

“Hey Ro-ro!” Sam called, breaking Rory free from her semi-fugue state. “Harrison’s wondering if we wanna get a drink. You down?”

Rory turned, and found Sam leaning against the blushing man, practically pawing at his chest. His hand was resting on her waist, his fingers sliding not-so-subtly towards her ass. It was a move Rory wanted to be disgusted at but…for some reason she was envious instead. Maybe she should tag along with them tonight; if she played her cards right, she bet she could get more than just a light groping from Harrison.

All girls wanna be good girls.

“Um, wait…” Rory clenched her eyes shut. There it was again. That strange, giddy dizziness in her brain. Instinctively, Rory pressed against it, silencing the music in her head.

“Are you okay?” Harrison asked.

“Uh, yeah, I just…” Rory hesitated, forcing herself to think clearly for what felt like the first time all evening. Had she seriously been considering spending the night with a guy she just met? Something was definitely off about her today. She had already missed dinner with her family and had a job interview tomorrow—if she didn’t get home soon, her parents would throw a fit.

“I…think I gotta go home,” she finally answered. “Sorry.”

“Awwww that’s okay!” Sam wrapped herself around Harrison’s arm. “That just means I have you all to myself!”

“Maybe next time,” Harrison added as Rory put her sweater back on with unsteady hands.

“Um. Okay,” she nodded absently. “Next time.”

Rory spent the trip back home in a muddled fog, trying to sort through everything that had happened to her today. When she had left the house, the plan had been to get coffee with Sam, then be back in time to have dinner with her parents and prepare for her interview at her dad’s old company. Now it was almost midnight, and she had spent the majority of her evening performing a dual striptease with the air-headed, boy-obsessed version of her best friend.

Had Rory’s disillusionment in Chicago really set her this off course? Was she really so desperate for approval and validation that she would put on some kind of vapid sexpot act for a stranger? What was she thinking?

And why couldn’t she make herself feel bad about it?

‘Cause nothing feels better than feeling sexy.

Her father read her the riot act when she walked into the old two-story house. He and her mother had apparently waited for nearly an hour for her to come back, only to end up with an empty chair and a table laden with cold food. Ordinarily, Rory wouldn’t let him harangue her like this without getting a few barbs in of her own. But tonight, she didn’t have the energy.

It felt so much easier to just tune out the angry words and bad thoughts; to just listen to that happy melody still wiggling in her brain.

All girls wanna be good girls.

Once the tirade was finished, Rory climbed the stairs to her room and shut the door behind her with an exhausted sigh. After changing into her PJ’s and putting her hair in a ponytail, she flopped onto her bed and opened her laptop, trying to psyche herself up for a long night of pre-interview prep. Her evening plans had gone awry, but that didn’t mean the night had to be a total bust. She could still get some company research done.

At least, in theory. But within minutes of her cram session, Rory found herself incredibly bored. She knew her dad used to work for some firm that sold medical devices, but she didn’t realize how mind-numbing it would be to read about. There were all these big, boring words and dull graphs. Did Rory really spend four years wading through this kinda stuff in college? Now it was almost impossible to get through two consecutive sentences without her mind wandering, wondering about what else she could be doing with her time.

And about what Sam and Harrison were up to right now.

Rory rested her cheek in her hand, absently humming a familiar tune. Maybe she just needed some focus music. Yeah, that was it. Rory did a quick search online for the “Good Girl” track, but couldn’t find even a mention of it anywhere. Curious, she scoured the web next for any news or info on Ditz Ditz Revolution, only to be met with similarly paltry results.

“Hmmmm,” Rory sighed to herself as she glanced at the clock. Without even realizing it, she had somehow spent two hours online, and had nothing to show for it. Oh well. She yawned and fell back against her pillows. It was probably best to call it a night; she did feel awfully drowsy after all.

Still, it was weird that nobody else had even heard of Ditz Ditz Revolution. Maybe it wasn’t a bootleg at all. Maybe Joe had actually made it himself, and had just told Sam that story to cover his ass.

Rory closed her eyes. She could just picture Joe building the machine piece by piece, his biceps bulging as he locked the metal components together. She smiled, her hand unthinkingly gliding up her t-shirt as she imagined herself standing nearby, hungrily watching him force the pieces into place, waiting for her turn to be worked on next.

Rory let out a small gasp as she felt her fingers pinch and tease her hardened nipple. Her other hand slipped under the waistband of her PJ’s, stroking the sopping wet patch on her panties.

Why was she getting so turned on? Sure, Joe had a rough sort of handsomeness to him, but she had never considered…had never thought of him like…

A powerful wave of desire cascaded through Rory, eliciting a low moan from her gaping mouth. She slid off her pants and panties, no longer caring where the fantasy came from. It felt so good to rub herself into a horny stupor, to grope and massage her tingling tits as the feverish dream continued.

She saw herself up on the dance platform again, performing for Joe as “Good Girl” pounded in her brain. She pictured him swaggering up to the machine, his triceps tightening as he grabbed the support bars and pulled himself beside her. She could almost feel the heat from his skin radiating on her, boiling her already raging blood.

Rory gripped the sheets as she pushed her fingers inside of her, riding blazing pulses of pleasure as she imagined it was Joe’s hands ravishing her instead. She could feel his lips on her neck, his thumb teasing her clit as the visuals from “Good Girl” played on the screen. They were so clear in her mind, as clear and captivating as if she was really there. Her breath quickened, her ecstasy building with the beat of the music as the chorus sang inside her.

‘Cause all girls wanna be good girls

And good girls wanna have fun

‘Cause nothing feels better than feeling sexy

And the sexiest kind of feeling’s…


Rory arched her back as the final syllable sent a rippling orgasm through her body. She instinctually clamped her hand over her mouth, desperately stifling the scream she knew would wake her parents. But broken utterances still leaked through her fingers as her pussy throbbed with delight, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing into her brain.

Finally, the roaring tide subsided.

Rory’s hands slid to her sides, her head lolling limp against the pillow as her breathing slowed. She felt more spent than she ever had in her life, as though she had just cum herself completely empty. A thin line of drool dribbled from the corner of her mouth, but she couldn’t think straight enough to care. She just let her heavy eyelids drop closed, smiling faintly as sleep descended on her droopy, drippy head.

Rory tried her best to straighten her hair in the mirror, wishing she had brought some foundation to cover her flushed cheeks. It was bad enough that she was ten minutes late to her interview—she didn’t want them to suspect it was because she had masturbated in the office bathroom.

But what else was she supposed to do? From the minute she had woken up that morning, she could barely keep her own hands off of herself. Any even vaguely sensual sensation or thought was liable to set her off, any stray glance from a man enough to make her wonder what would happen if she offered a peek of the pink panties under her pencil skirt.

It was a good thing she didn’t have a fetish for office escapades, she thought as she stepped out into the clinically drab hall, otherwise she would barely be able to contain herself. Hopefully this interview would be as boring as the company seemed. Maybe then she’d be able to string two cock-free thoughts together.

“Hi! Sorry, sorry, I know I’m late,” she apologized as she hustled into the conference room.

“It’s quite alright,” the older woman seated at the table said, rising and shaking Rory’s hand with a patronizing smile. “Your father was rarely on time too, but he was still a pleasure to work with.”

Rory smiled weakly in response. She had just spotted the other interviewer and, to her utter dismay, he was totally her type. Well, one of them, anyway—she had spent the entire day discovering new “types” that pushed her buttons. Apparently dark-skinned, buzz-cut executive assistants with gingham shirts were now on the list too.

Worse still, as Rory settled in she could tell he liked her too. He kept accidentally meeting her eyes, a smile breaking out across his gentle features the third time it happened.

Rory giggled.

“Ms. Wilcox,” the woman tutted.

“Huh?” Rory blinked, pulling her eyes from their new obsession. “Sorry, I um, I don’t think I caught that, Mrs.…”

“Powell,” Mrs. Powell corrected. “And I was just asking why you decided to apply to this company.”

“Cuz Dad said I should,” Rory answered, before realizing how bad that sounded. “I mean, he told me about, like, how important your work is, and uh, how much he enjoyed his time here.”

“Hm,” Mrs. Powell frowned.

“Y-you must have a lotta stories from working with him,” Rory ventured, grateful that not every part of her brain was lost in a hormonal fog.

““Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.” A nostalgic smile creased the older woman’s face. “Did he ever tell you about the time…”

Rory blinked dully, her attention sliding back to the assistant as the story droned on. He was pretending to take notes, but Rory could tell he was thinking of her. She smiled to herself. He probably thought the upper-class, overly-educated woman described on her resume was too uptight to satisfy his needs. Wouldn’t he be surprised to see just how far she would go to feel his hard cock between her—

“Are you having some trouble, Wilcox?” the sharp voice of Mrs. Powell cut through the haze.

“Mm?” Rory looked down, realizing that she had been sucking on her pen this whole time, not hearing a word of what her angry interrogator had said. “Um…sorry, I uhhh…” she pulled back, a sticky line of drool stretching from her lips as she did so. “Is it, like, hot in here? I feel like there’s something, um…”

Even as her sluggish thoughts refused to align, she was aware that it shouldn’t be this hard to think. Yet the longer she felt the assistant’s gaze on her, the more arousal-addled her brain became, and the more impossible it was to do anything but just sit and soak in her own juices.

The sexiest kinda feeling’s feeling dumb.

Mrs. Powell cleared her throat. “Let me be clear, Ms. Wilcox. Your father was quite successful here, and it is because of our gratitude towards him that we agreed to this interview. But do not think for a second that you are guaranteed a position. Especially when you refuse to take this seriously.”

Rory’s brow furrowed. “I’m, like, totally taking this seriously,” she insisted. “I just feel kinda…” (horny, needy, sexy, stupid) “…Weird right now.”

“Then perhaps you should have called to reschedule. Instead of wasting our time.” Mrs. Powell stood, cuing her assistant to rise with her (and cover his crotch with his notebook, Rory noted). “Now, we have more urgent business to attend to. Perhaps we can revisit this matter once you’ve sobered up.”

The assistant held open the door as Mrs. Powell exited, but lingered back when Rory touched his wrist. “Wait,” she said, a bolt of inspiration managing to pierce her dazed brain. “Don’t you have, like, a card or something to give me? In case I need it to…follow-up?”

“Uh, sure,” he said, handing her a white business card. “It was a pleasure to meet you Ms.—”

“Call me Rory. And I’ll call you soon,” she winked.

He shook his head with a bemused smile and departed, but not without casting one last lingering look her way.

Rory grinned and hummed to herself on the way back to her car. She knew that she probably didn’t get the job, but her body didn’t seem care. It felt so buoyant and bouncy, so brimming with excitement and anticipation.

As she drove home in silence, however, her mind finally finished processing what had happened. And an unsettling sense of clarity descended on her.

What…did she just do?

“But you did get his number, right?” Sam asked as they descended the stairs into Joystick Joe’s.

“Yeah, but that’s not the point!” Rory whined. “I must’ve looked like a total bimbo in there! There’s no way they’re going to hire me now.”

Sam raised her eyebrows quizzically. “Isn’t that, like, a good thing though? You didn’t even really want to work there, right?”

“I…I guess…” Rory’s rubbed her forehead, as though she could massage her scattered thoughts into place. “I just…I dunno, it just feels like I...like I wasn’t really myself in there, y’know?”

“What?” Sam giggled. “Who else could you be but you?”

“Um,” Rory hesitated, briefly stymied by Sam’s simple logic. “I just mean, like…I used to act different, you know?”

“Were you happier that way?”

Rory thought for a moment, then shook her head.

Sam beamed. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I…” Rory’s voice trailed off beneath the sound of the games chiming around them. Something still felt amiss, but she couldn’t put her finger on what. Was it the fact that she was still in her tight skirt, blouse, and heels from her interview? That did seem like an odd choice for arcade attire but…what if guys showed up to watch? Rory didn’t want to be caught out in boring jeans and a wool sweater again—that would be a real disaster.

“Let me ask you this,” Sam skipped in front of her, breasts almost bouncing free from her tiny crop-top. “Which would you rather do? Spend the whole night making yourself worry over nothing? Or just empty out your pretty head and enjoy yourself with your bestie?”

Empty out my pretty head,” Rory answered automatically. A familiar giddiness overtook her, causing her to smile blankly as Sam patted her head. That strange dreamy feeling had been coming more and more frequently since last night, but Rory had stopped trying to fight it. In fact, she was kinda starting to enjoy the sensation. It was like a cloud of pretty bubbles floating through her brain, absorbing all her bad thoughts and carrying them away.

She became aware of her surroundings again when they reached the Ditz Ditz Revolution machine. As her eyes refocused, Rory let out a surprised squeak.

Joe was crouched by the speakers, tinkering with his tools just like in her fantasy, his back muscles arching beneath his tight tank-top.

Sam seemed to enjoy Rory’s discomfort, and waited until her face was burning red before speaking up. “Heeey Joe.” The busty brunette waved.

Joe looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Hey girls, perfect timing,” he said, standing. “The parts I ordered arrived this morning, so I was just putting the finishing touches on some upgrades.”

He stepped aside, revealing the tuned-up machine behind him. The speakers had been replaced by fancy new LED-lit models, and a sharp, bright LCD display now rested in place of the old CRT monitor.

“Ohmigod,” Sam breathed, stepping onto the dance platform. “Joe, it’s amazing.”

“Aw hell,” Joe chuckled. “It’s nothing for my two favorite customers.”

“B-but the cost…” Rory stammered, suddenly self-conscious at the idea of him doing all this for her.

Joe waved the concern away. “Think of it like an investment. Besides, you girls love the machine right?”

Yes, we love it!” Rory and Sam answered in unison.

“Then just enjoy yourselves,” Joe winked. “That’s all that matters, right Ro-ro?”

“R-right!” Rory exclaimed. For some reason, him calling her that made her thighs clench. “Thank you, sir!”

“‘Sir?’” Joe arched his eyebrows in exaggerated surprise. “Don’t think you’ve called me that since your claw-game days. Not that I mind!” he laughed.

Rory tittered nervously. “Sure thing, sir! You got it, sir!” she called as he left, hoping to spin it as a joke and not as an embarrassing slip-up.

Sam smirked as she inserted quarters into the machine. “Ro-ro, you are so hopeless,” she said.

Rory stuck out her tongue and laughed. Maybe her friend was right, in a way. But being so hopeless never felt so good.

The first song started up, leading Rory and Sam to play through the set as they normally did. The new upgrades definitely gave the tracks more kick, their beats landing harder and effects flashing brighter than ever before. As each stage came to a close, Sam and Rory locked eyes and giggled. They both knew what they were really looking forward to.

Finally, it arrived: the bonus stage.

Rory sucked in a shaky breath through her teeth. For some reason, she felt nervous. As if she were about to cross some sort of threshold, or take a leap into the unknown. Which was silly of course: this was just a game. It was fun. She should just focus on the screen, empty out her pretty head, and obey.

Wait, what was that…?

The first beat of “Good Girl” dropped like a glitter bomb in Rory’s head. She swayed on her feet, as dizzying colors and swirling patterns filled her vision, completely enveloping her. It felt like she was floating, the pretty bubbles from before carrying her mind far, far away as her body obeyed the machine’s rhythms. Her world blended into one sweet, saccharine dream, her mouth hanging open as each note sent a fresh wave of stupefying pleasure through the pastel soup of her brain, each chirpy lyric forming the only solid thought she could grasp onto.

It feels so good to dance all day

To lose your cares and just obey

To empty out your pretty head

And let men think for you instead.

‘Cause all girls wanna be good girls

And good girls wanna have fun.

‘Cause nothing feels better than feeling sexy

And the sexiest kinda feeling’s feeling…

“D-dumb,” Rory stuttered as the song came to a close. Had she been singing along the whole time? She wasn’t sure. She stood still for a moment, temporarily at a loss about what to do or think without the steps to guide her.

The applause and laughter behind her finally snapped her back into the present. She turned, noticing for the first time Harrison and three friends of his, clapping as Sam pressed her tits together for them.

How long had they been watching? How had Rory not noticed? It felt like she had become completely unstuck from time. Her disorientation vanished, however, when she saw a familiar face in the cluster.

“Chris!” she called out, rushing over to the assistant from her interview and giving him a big hug. “Ohmigod I’m so happy to see you!”

“Uh, hey,” Chris replied, seemingly taken aback but not displeased by Rory’s enthusiasm. “It’s, uh, good to see you too, uh, Ms….”

“Wilcox, but you can call me Rory. Or Ro-ro if you want,” she added with a giggle. “This is so crazy. I never thought you’d, like, come to see me so soon.”

“Uh…well,” he smiled sheepishly. “I actually didn’t know you’d be here. I mean, Harrison said he had two friends who liked to hang out here but…”

“Wait!” Sam exclaimed, her arms draped between two of Harrison’s buddies. “Is this, like, the guy from the office, Ro-ro? The one who gave you his number?”

“Chris, you know this girl?” Harrison asked, giving his friend a sly look.

“Sort of,” Chris shrugged. “She came into an interview today, and we chatted a little afterwards. Gotta say though,” he added, his eyes scanning Rory and causing her to squirm with delight. “I didn’t really expect her to be the, uh, ‘strip-DDR’ type.”

“Huh? Strip…?” Rory followed his gaze, and realized that she was no longer wearing her skirt, leaving her long pale legs and soft pink panties open for the whole world to see.

Wait, when did she…?

“Duh, silly Ro-ro,” Sam chimed in. “You took off your skirt when it got too hard to move, remember?”

“I did...?” Rory had a vague memory of people cheering after the third bonus stage but…wait, third? How long had she and Sam been…?

“God, you’re so dumb sometimes,” Sam teased, tousling Rory’s hair.

Rory grinned, her worries suddenly popping in a burst of bubbles. “I so totally ammm,” she said, burying her face in Chris’s chest. To her delight, she felt his arm wrap around her, his hand pressing the small of her back.

The sexiest kinda feeling’s feeling dumb, she thought to herself in a docile daze.

Sam’s voice broke through the warm fog. “Harrison told me the guys are having a game night tonight, Ro-ro. We should, like, totally come.”

“Um…” Rory lifted her head from Chris’s chest, frowning in thought. She really wanted to go with them, but some faint voice inside was telling her to slow down. Something wasn’t adding up. One moment she was coming from a job interview she had totally botched, the next she was…dancing…and now she was half-naked in public and felt…fine about it…?

“It’d be really great if you joined us,” Chris said, squeezing Rory’s arm.

She sighed as the warmth of his touch rushed across her skin and into her brain. She nodded dreamily, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. Why was she worrying herself again? She should just empty out her pretty head and let men think for her instead. That was…right, wasn’t it? It sure felt that way, and like way too much effort to argue with.

Good girls wanna have fun…” she half-sang, half-murmured to no one.

“What?” Chris asked.

“Okay!” Sam cheered. “Let’s go! Game on!”

Chris laughed. “You’re telling me you wrote an honors thesis on the information economy, but ‘Ticket to Ride’ is too complicated?”

“I dunno,” Rory pouted. “It just is!” This was the third board game Chris had tried to explain, but she just couldn’t seem to grasp it. Whenever he started talking about point totals or turn order, her eyes glazed over, her mind suddenly more focused on his strong jaw and playful lips rather than the words they were forming.

Some dim part of her knew that shouldn’t be the case: she should be able to follow this stuff but…

“Rory’s just acting dumb cuz she wants to get in your pants,” Sam teased, giving Rory a playful shove.

“Nooo I’m…like…I’m not…,” Rory dissolved into a fit of giggles.

It was too much: the embarrassment, the arousal, the giddiness, all working in tandem to soften her thoughts into a horny, happy mush. She fell against Sam, and the two of them burst into laughter together, almost collapsing on the floor. Rory wished for a second that she had thought the join the men on the sectional sofa, but Sam had made it a good point: for some reason, it felt more comfortable to be on their knees in front of the coffee table instead.

“Well shoot,” Harrison said, running a hand through his hair. “I can look, but I think that’s the easiest game we got.”

“It’s cool,” Rory said, scooting over so she could lean against Chris’ leg. “You guys can play. Maybe Sam and me will, like, figure it out.”

“Orrrr….” Sam grinned mischievously. “I have a fun game we can play.”

“If its charades, I’m out,” Chris joked.

“It’s way more fun than charades.” Sam giggled. “It’s called: ‘Who’s the Best Cocksucker: Ro-ro or Sammi?’

“Sam!” Rory gasped, turning scarlet. Above her, Chris chuckled awkwardly and took a swig of his beer, exchanging a loaded glance with Harrison.

“What?” Sam leaned forward and playfully brushed Rory’s hair. “Scared you might lose?”

“N-no. I mean, that doesn’t matter!” Rory shook her head, as if that might dispel the mounting heat in her brain. “We, we can’t just…”

“Why not?” Sam grinned. “I’m sure the boys don’t mind, right?” The men all exchanged wide-eyed looks and shook their heads. “And I think you secretly want it too,” Sam added.

Rory’s lips opened, but no sound came out. She looked up at Chris, hoping for some direction. He shrugged sheepishly, as if to say: “I’m cool either way.” But Rory could see the clouded hunger in his eyes, could sense his pulse quickening and his cock stiffening beneath his jeans.

“C’mon Ro-ro,” Sam pressed. “Look in my eyes and tell me you don’t wanna do it. Tell me you don’t wanna just get on your knees and serve cock like a good girl.”

“I-I…uh…” Rory tried to focus on Sam’s eyes, but her head felt so light and listless all of a sudden, like a hot air balloon rising through thick pink clouds of dizzying desire. She could feel her pussy drool as saliva filled her mouth, cutting off her ability to form words. Not that she had any left anyway.

“Okay, here are the rules,” Sam continued cheerfully, unbuckling Chris’ pants. “Ro-ro gets Chris, I get Harrison. Whoever tastes cum first wins. Sound good?” she asked, taking up position in front of Harrison.

Rory nodded dumbly, her eyes fixated on the bulge in Chris’ boxers. He shifted it aside, and out popped his beautiful, rigid cock, taking Rory’s breath away in an instant. Her eyelids fluttered as his hand teased the shaft into position, as though it were her soaking cunt that his fingers were idly stroking.

“Ready?” Sam asked.

Serve cock, a voice inside Rory sang. Never stop.


Rory dove onto Chris in an instant, savoring the sensation of him sliding between her lips. Even though she had only given a handful of blowjobs in her life, her body moved with a passionate confidence outside of her, as though conducted by the gasps of pleasure escaping Chris’ lips. She tore open her blouse, gripping and squeezing her tits as she bobbed her head eagerly in time to the beautiful music playing in her brain.

“Oh fuck,” Chris gasped. “Oh…”

Rory’s insides hummed with pride as her tongue caressed him. She wanted it so bad…worse than anything she had ever wanted in her life. There was no room in her head anymore for doubts or worries, just an aching, stupefying need for…

“Ah!” Chris’ body tensed. “I’m gonna…”

Rory pushed him into her throat, pumping his powerful, hard cock as deep as it would go.

Yes. God yes.

This was everything she needed, everything she lived for. She would do this forever if it just meant tasting his hot, thick…

She felt him twitch moments before his cum filled her mouth. She pulled back, caught off-guard, cum and drool spilling onto her blouse as her body soaked in wet, sticky bliss.

“Sh-shit,” Chris laughed, breathless. “Are you okay?”

“Mm-hm,” Rory’s lips spread into a drippy, dreamy smile. She was better than okay. She was a good girl.

Sam crawled next to her with a giggle. “Silly Ro-ro,” she chided. “You’re supposed to swallow, not dribble all over yourself.”

“Oh, um…” Rory raised her hand to wipe her mouth, only for Sam’s gentle fingers to stop her.

“It’s okay,” Sam murmured, stroking Rory’s cheek. “You don’t gotta be embarrassed. You know what they say: ‘men rule, girls drool.

Before Rory’s fizzling brain could muster a response, she felt Sam’s lips press into hers. Rory closed her eyes, melting as she felt her friend’s tongue explore her mouth. She pressed closer, kissing Sam deeply while reaching under her crop-top, massaging her fat, needy tits. Sam gasped with delight, grinning at Rory before leaning in and licking a stray trace of cum from her cheek. Rory giggled, then sighed in ecstasy as Sam’s lips moved down her neck.

God. Why had they never done this before? Why weren’t they always doing this? What more was there to life than sucking cock and making out in front of…

“Waaaaaiit…” Rory said, reluctantly holding Sam back. “Who won?”

Sam blinked, then looked between the two “contestants” on the couch, both of their spent dicks flopped against their legs. “Ummm….” she giggled. “I, like, totally forgot!”

Rory burst out laughing, her shoulders quaking with bubbly, unrestrained mirth. “So, like, what are we gonna do now?”

“Hmmm….” Sam turned, glancing at the other two thunderstruck guys on the couch. “How about a tie-breaker?”

Rory thought it was the best idea she had ever heard.

The light on Rory’s phone blinked coldly in the grey morning light. Four missed calls and a cavalcade of angry texts from her dad had piled up overnight. While she was…

Rory traced her lips with her finger, staring out at the dimly lit apartment, trying to figure out how she felt. She knew, deep down, that sucking cock all evening wasn’t bad. In fact, she felt a thrill of pleasure at the mere memory of it.

Serve cock. Never stop.

But now she was sitting in silence on the couch she had spent the night on, her cum-stained clothes still balled up in a pile on the floor. Sam had gone into Harrison’s room, and the rest of the guys had left, leaving Rory alone with her thoughts.

At least, what was left of them.

She shivered. Her head still felt a little foggy and her mind kept wandering, but she could still sense that something had changed. She had changed. In a way that wasn’t normal. She wasn’t sure of a lot now, but she was pretty sure girls didn’t go from valedictorians to cumsluts over a couple days.

Was it…wrong?

It didn’t feel wrong.

Yet as she tried to lay back on the cushions and sink into blissful sleep, some part of her refused to let go. Refused to let her forget everything that was waiting back home, all the work and responsibilities and expectations and…

“Rory?” Sam asked, slipping into the room. “Is everything okay?”

Rory met her friend’s gaze, her lips trying and failing to form an explanation. What could she possibly say? What could she possibly tell Sam to make her understand how lost and confused she felt? How even as some part of her mind fought to hold onto the last vestiges of the old Rory, she wanted nothing more than to...

“You wanna let go, don’t you?” Sam said, as though reading Rory’s thoughts perfectly. “You don’t wanna be the smart, stuffy, Rory anymore, do you?”

Rory’s lips quivered, tears of relief springing to her eyes. She shook her head, her heart overflowing with gratitude. How could she ever think Sam had stopped being her friend? After everything that had happened, she still knew Rory better than anyone else. Better than she knew herself, even.

“It’s okay,” Sam smiled gently. “I know just what you need.” She reached forward, extracting Rory’s phone from her grasp and dialing a number. Rory opened her mouth to ask who she was calling, then thought better of it.

Asking questions felt bad.

Letting Sam stroke her hair felt good.

Rory heard the phone click as the call connected. “Hey, Sir,” Sam said brightly. “She’s ready.”

Rory felt like she was floating as Sam lead her through the empty arcade. None of the machines were on yet, save for the one shining in the corner. The one that would finally make Rory the good girl she wanted to be.

Joe looked up from the screen, closing the menu he had been fiddling with. “Hey Ro-ro,” he smiled. “I was hoping you would be back soon.”

“Uh-huh,” Rory nodded dimly. Even as hard as it was to think now, she had finally realized on the way over where her new thoughts had been coming from. And there was still a part of her who found the idea of an arcade game brainwashing her scary.

But it also felt so, so good.

“Sir’s gonna make you, like, so happy Ro-ro,” Sam said, kissing Rory’s cheek. “Just relax. You already know what to do.”

With that, Joe pressed a button on the machine and stepped aside. The screen swirled into a familiar field of colors, pulling Rory in before she even had a chance to realize what was happening. The music poured into her ears, drowning out all other thoughts or concerns. She smiled vacantly, her arms sliding limp to her sides. There were no steps this time, no scores or stage selection to worry about. Just a few simple lessons she had been secretly learning all along, now echoing loud and clear in her pretty, empty head.

Listen closely to this song

And soon you’ll want to sing along.

Keep your focus on the screen

And soon you’ll see just what I mean.

Rory felt Sam’s hands exploring her body, sliding her panties down her legs and unhooking her bra while Joe watched.

It feels so good to dance all day

To lose your cares and just obey

To empty out your pretty head

And let men think for you instead.

Rory blinked. She was now bent over, her wrists strapped to the support bar, her ass and pussy thrust out behind her, open and inviting. She could feel Joe draw closer, could hear his belt unbuckle, sending a shiver of animal need through her. She wanted to turn. Wanted to see his hard cock hover over her dripping cunt as it leaked down her pale, quivering thighs.

But she couldn’t tear her eyes from the screen. Couldn’t ignore the words sinking into her soft, fluffy brain.

‘Cause all girls wanna be good girls

And good girls wanna have fun.

‘Cause nothing feels better than feeling sexy

And the sexiest kinda feeling’s feeling dumb.

Rory gasped as Joe drove his cock into her, her body throbbing with pleasure. His massive hands gripped her hips, almost lifting her from the ground as he fucked her with powerful, mind-blanking thrusts. A dribbling moan spilled out of Rory, her tong lolling from her open, drooling mouth.

Your brain is getting foggy.

Your pussy is dripping wet.

Just learn these simple lessons

And we’ll make a good girl of you yet!

She could feel it happening. Her pride, her education, everything she had once held dear was gushing out of her, until her brain was as raw and simple as the cock pounding her pussy.

And it was building. The tempo of the song, the eagerness of Joe’s thrusts, the pleasure seizing her muscles, in wave after wave of orgasmic delight. It was all getting faster, and harder, no trace of subtly or sweetness left. Just overwhelming force.

Men rule! Girls drool!

Always aim to please!

Serve cock! Never Stop!

Always on your knees!

Good girl! Good girl! Goooood giiiirl!

Rory screamed along to the final note. She felt Joe’s cock twitch deep inside of her, bringing her to her knees as her body cried out in violent, joyous convulsions. Pleasure blazed through her like a clarifying fire, burning away all the darkness and filling her with clear, beautiful light.

She panted for breath as the song and colors faded, her body completely limp, her bound arms dangling above her bowed head. She felt Sir’s finger’s tilt her chin up, guiding her to meet his captivating gaze.

“That was fun, wasn’t it?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir,” Rory answered with a dopey grin.

“Good,” he said, releasing her and moving his cock in front of her face. “I’d bet you’d like to keep having fun, wouldn’t you?”

Rory nodded dreamily before wrapping her lips around the still-dripping member, thrilled to get the chance to clean Sir’s cock. Her excitement doubled when she saw Sam kneel beside her, naked and panting, fingers still slick with her own juices as she teased Rory’s nipples and kissed her neck.

“Good,” Sir grunted. “Now listen closely. I’ve got an idea I think you’ll both really enjoy.”

“Welcome to Joystick Joe’s!” Ro-ro and Sammi squealed in unison, stepping aside to let a wide-eyed guest through.

“Think he’ll get enough?” Sammi asked as the door closed behind her.

“I bet he will!” Ro-ro answered. The single guys always played the hardest. After all, they knew what was at stake. She cast a sneaky glance over her shoulder to confirm her theory. To her satisfaction, she saw the man had paused halfway down the stairs, and was gawking up her skirt with slack-jawed disbelief. No doubt he wasn’t expecting to see her naked pussy underneath, the vibrator buzzing inside ensuring she was constantly wet and eager to please. As if she needed the help.

“Have fun,” Ro-ro sang, blowing a kiss for the man to take with him into arcade. “I’ll be waiting.”

“I really hope he wins,” Sammi sighed, twirling a finger through her hair. “Today’s been, like, suuuuper slow.”

Ro-ro nodded. Sammi was right; not that the arcade was struggling, by any means. Thanks to the two scantily clad good girls bouncing outside, the place had never been more popular. But showing off her tits and making out with Sammi was only half the fun of the job: the other was when one of the customers got enough tickets to win the grand prize.

And so far, there had only been one winner today. A slow Tuesday if there ever was one. Or was it Wednesday? Ro-ro briefly tried to remember, before deciding it didn’t matter. If the day was important, Joe would tell her. It was nothing to worry her empty, pretty head about.

A cough behind her broke Ro-ro out of her happy daze. She turned and beamed when she saw who it was. “Chris!” she exclaimed.

“Uh hey,” her handsome friend said, holding up a plastic cup filled with red tickets. “I uh, got the…”

“Ohmigod you did it!” Ro-ro clapped excitedly. “Here, let’s—”

“Wait wait wait,” Sammi interrupted. “He’s gotta choose, remember?”

Ro-ro’s heart sunk. “Nooo faaiiirrr,” she whined. But there was nothing to do about it. Sir set the rules, and the rules were clear: any customer who got enough tickets got to choose between her and Sammi. No if’s, and’s, or but’s.

Ro-ro didn’t want to disobey Sir, but she still made sure to play with her tits while Chris thought, hoping desperately to sway him. She missed his cock, and Sir had forbade his girls from fucking or sucking customers for free more than once. Had to keep them wanting, he had said. Ro-ro had no choice but to agree. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t get Sir’s cock anymore. And she liked Sir’s cock the most.

“I’ll uh, go with Ro-ro,” Chris finally answered.

Ro-ro practically leapt out of her skirt with joy. “Yaaaaay!” she exclaimed, grabbing her winner’s hand and leading him down into the arcade. She hopped and skipped through the crowds, slowing just briefly to spy on two girls on the Ditz Ditz Revolution machine. Given the number of cheering spectators and the discarded clothes at their feet, Ro-ro guessed the dancers had been playing for a while. Maybe she would have some new friends soon, she thought with a smile.

“Sirrrrr!” Ro-ro called as she reached the prize counter. “We gotta winner.” She lifted her leg onto the glass, eager for Sir to take the vibrator out of her dripping cunt.

Instead, she was met with a wry smile. “Did you count the tickets?” Sir asked.

Ro-ro blushed. “Uhhh no….” she confessed. “But it’s like, super hard. There are so many!”

“That’s why we got the counting machine, remember?” Sir nodded towards a yellow cabinet nearby.

“Oh yeaaaaahhh,” Ro-ro giggled.

“Do you remember how it works?” Sir asked.

“Uhhhhhh,” Ro-ro screwed her face up in concentration, but her aching pussy made it so hard to think. Well, harder than usual.

“I got it,” Chris said, taking his tickets over and inserting them into the machine.

Ro-ro stood by the prize counter, wiggling with anticipation. She had gone the whole day without a cock inside her, and it was driving her crazy. Sir seemed aware of her impatience, and hooked an arm over her shoulder with a mischievous smile, pulling her closer as he slipped his hand inside of her top.

“Sirrrrr” she mewled as he kneaded her sensitive breasts. He could be so mean sometimes, teasing her like this. But deep down, she knew she loved it. After all, he had told her so.

Finally, Chris showed his ticket receipt to Sir, earning a nod of approval.

“Yay!” Ro-ro cried, extending her leg over the counter again. “Can we do it right here, Chris? Please please please?” Usually the winners decided how and where they wanted to fuck her, but she couldn’t wait another moment.

“Y-yeah, sure,” Chris answered after receiving a loaded look from Sir.

Ro-ro closed her eyes with a happy sigh, swooning as she felt Sir’s fingers inside her, extracting the dripping, sticky toy and leaving her open and ready for her new winner.

This was her favorite part. Sure, the fucking and cumming was nice, but it was the first moment a man slid deep inside her that she savored the most. It was the blissful, overwhelming clarity she loved, the perfect, simple truth she never tired of hearing as the music filled her dumb, horny mind.

She knew now. She finally knew who she was.

She was a good girl.


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