"Welcome to BeeMart, where the deals are always honey sweet." Drones a half awake woman, slouched at the counter of a small store in a quiet little town. The woman is Helena Hollystone and the town is the same as always. She spends her shift as she had the last, flicking through her phone to check that her daughter hasn't ingested any more toys, casual flirting with her wife Sam and occasionally scrolling through twitter to witness people arguing about nonsense in the replies of companies self promoting.

Sometimes, she even has to serve customers. On this particular day, she has barely seen a single face besides her own, this is a small shop which mostly sells flowers and a few essentials, so she has no staff members running it with her. Even so, she sticks to the given script in an almost cynical manner, her monotone voice and bored smile oh so welcoming to the fleeting customers.

"Welcome to BeeMart, where the deals are always honey sweet." Helena says once the bell at the door rings, not even looking up from her phone screen. She knows that the customer is almost definitely going to use the self checkout if they decide to buy anything, Helena can't remember the last person she actually served since that was installed next to the till. Sure, she should still keep an eye on them, but that would require a raise... of both her eyes and her wages. Neither one is happening anytime soon, or so she thinks.

The customer shuffles around for a bit, Helena paying no attention to them, until a waft of thick perfume hits her through the stuffy air of the claustrophobic shopfront. The procrastinating retail clerk inhales the sweet smelling aroma and sighs, flicking her eyes up to see who the scent belongs to. A woman stands in the centre of the shop with her back to Helena, wearing a white flowery dress and a straw sun hat with black ribbon. As if she needed any more reminders that it's summer, she feels like she has been slowly cooking in here over the course of her shift.

Figuring that the woman will either walk out without buying something or help herself with the automated checkout like most, she shoots her head back down and continues to scroll aimlessly. A few seconds later, however, the pleasant yet intrusive fragrance grows stronger and with another glance she notices ten pretty fingers dancing on the edge of the counter. Each nail is painted black with white spiral patterns... or are they white with black spirals? The clerk cocks her head as she tries to decide, before the customer's knowing giggle snaps her out of it. Looking up, she almost thinks she recognises the woman even with the glasses blocking half her face, but soon tells herself she would remember someone with such a strong impression, such an overpowering presence.

"Hello there, lovely little shop you have. Are you the owner?" The woman is wearing a large pair of sunglasses which obscure her eyes, but her smile is disarmingly wide.

Helena places her phone down on the counter and shakes her head, brushing her hair to the side and looking straight at the woman. "No, no, that'd be a woman by the name of Aubrey. She just pays me a wage to take in deliveries and run the shop, I'm her busy worker bee or something, haha..."

"Ah well, I was hoping to meet the queen bee but I understand. Even so, it's so nice to see you Helena."

Leaning on the counter, Helena's eyes sharpen. Does she know this woman after all? As if reading the thought directly from her mind, the other woman motions to Helena's chest.

"Your badge, silly."

"Oh, right. Nice to meet you, I guess. Anything specific you're looking for, I may suck at customer relations but I can point you to any seedling, flower or nut your heart desires."

The fingers on the counter crawl forwards until the strange woman has both palms planted firmly on the counter, leaning over it as she looms over the startled Helena. The flowery pheromones seem to surround her now, like a cloud of nectar, or a lover's embrace. Even worse, the customer's impressive chest is far too close to Helena's face now than should be appropriate for two strangers. The cloying scent is like an attack on the senses, disorienting her until she feels a jolt straight through her body like a spark of electricity bringing her to attention. A feeling like that of an adrenaline spike flooding though her, Helena swiftly stands up stiff and backs away some until she can think straight again, her back brushing the behind-the-counter supplements.

"No need to point me anywhere, pretty, I think I know what I want. I'll have you."

Helena stares at the amused woman, her confidence waning in the face of her customer's. So sure of herself, but what a ridiculous thing to say...

"E-excuse me? Ma'am, I'm flattered but..." She flashes her ring at the customer, who only shakes her head dismissively.

"Oh dear, I thought you were a professional, was I mistaken?" Her fingers tap on the counter one at a time, in rhythm, ten succinct taps that repeat in a a perfect motion. Like a wave, washing away the would-be silence.

It takes Helena a moment to respond to the insulting accusation, getting distracted by the obnoxious tapping before glaring at the customer harassing her so. "A professional? I'm not a whore, I'm a married woman, try your pickup artist shit somewhere else okay? Maybe ease up on the tacky perfume next time, you don't need to use a whole bottle either."

"Hmmmm, you really think it's tacky?" Tap, tap, tap, tap. "It's meant to be calming, relaxing, helping you to loosen up and release tension. Stimulating even. All my friends love it, eventually, you will too!" Tap, tap, tap. "I never said you were a whore, though something tells me you'd make a good one, I simply asked if you were a professional? You are employed here, correct?" Tap, tap, tap.

Helena blinks, her hostility melting down into a passive annoyance as she tries to make sense of the strange woman leaning over the counter. She's so forward, there must be something wrong with her. Admittedly, the perfume isn't as bad as she makes out, but it's still far too strong. It's giving her a headache. "I... ugh, yes. I'm employed here, of course."

"Excellent, then shouldn't you act more professional?" The grin on the customer's face never falters, which makes the flustered Helena feel somewhat unsure about herself.

"Um, no I... that's, what do you mean?" She thinks she should be offended by such a condescending question, but she should probably make sure she hasn't just misinterpreted the situation. There's no way the woman would be speaking down to her so candidly, if she had no reason to, right?

With a smirk and a hum, the woman says in a sing-song voice. "The customer is always right!" Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap... "Isn't that like, the first rule of working behind a counter like this. I mean, surely you haven't forgotten that... have you, honey?"

Helena's complicated expression twists into one of flushed embarrassment, of course... she feels like she has been caught with her clothes on backwards. How did she let such a simple rule slip her mind? The customer is always right, that's a professional standard. So that means... this woman is always right? No, something's not right...

"What's wrong, Helena? Are you a professional, or are you just pretending? A real store clerk would never dare to correct a customer, would they?"

After a weak internal struggle, the muddled married woman shakes her head slowly, not quite convinced but finding herself simply agreeing in lieu of figuring out why she's so stumped. "No... I suppose not. I mean, I don't think so? Is... is that right?" She takes another deep breath in, her lungs filling with more of that thought scattering fragrance. The aroma seems to have the uncanny ability to affirm everything she is led to think or feel, while the taps keep her grounded and focussed on the space in front of her, stopping her from floating away entirely. Feeling more and more spaced out, the time between her question and the customer's answer feels like an eternity.

"Of course that's right, so you are a professional. I'm relieved, for a moment there I thought you might be the type to disagree with your customers, to arrogantly believe you know better. That would be embarrassing, wouldn't it?" The customer leans in, the stimulating fuzz growing stronger, each inhale utterly exhilarating to Helena now... she feels like she's on cloud nine.

At this point, disagreeing feels like a foreign concept. She nods with a short giggle, twirling a finger through her hair. "Uhm, yeah... kinda. I mean, right, that would be so embarrassing, I think. Right?"

"Do you need me to think for you, Helena?"

"Haha, I... sorry? I mean, sorry, I just can't quite..."

"Think for yourself?" Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap...

Helena's blinks become longer with her breaths, feeling her chest rise and fall back down with a noticeable bounce. She may not be a biological mother, but she certainly has the bust for the job, while her wife's body never got the memo.

"Huh? No I can, I can think for myself. Wait, what were we talking about? This is like... a really weird conversation..." She's staring down at the customer's fingers, following from left to right with each wave. Such a simple pattern, repeating flawlessly, easy to just focus on.

"I was saying that I'd like to buy you from the shop, silly, you need to listen better okay?"

"I... okaaay, I'll listen. Wait, what? You can't... I mean, I'm not for sale. That's not, that's strange..." Helena feels so disorganised, like her thoughts were a deck of cards that she just dropped onto the floor in a mess... all out of order and hard to string together basic thoughts.

"You just agreed with me that everything I say is right, as the customer is always right. Are you questioning your customer? That isn't very professional of you." The tapping grows louder, bringing Helena back into the room a little more, the leash pulled back to stop her slipping away.

"Right... it's just that, something seems very wrong about what you're saying... but I'm not saying you're wrong, of course. I'm a professional, I swear." The confused clerk feels like her pride is on the line, the single minded desire to correct this woman's impression of her as some unprofessional distracting her from just how wrong this all is.

"That's good to hear, then listen close." She beckons Helena closer with just her eyes, the woman's effortless certainty in herself a sight to behold.

With only a slight hesitation, Helena finds herself returning to the counter and placing her hands onto it, her head bobbing as she hovers over it, unfocused and puzzled.

Without warning, the tapping stops, the customer's fingers becoming still against the counter. At the same time, the close proximity sends a thick whiff of the heady aroma that has been fogging the clerk's thoughts since the start. With the increased strength of the mind numbing perfume and the removal of the taps keeping her focused in the scene of the room, Helena begins to drift.

Her mind drifts and drifts until the store fades from her reality, leaving nothing but pretty spirals and softly spoken words from her customer. "That's a good worker bee." The woman says sweetly, amusement in her voice. The dazed Helena smiles simply, her face devoid of intelligence while her mind glazes into nothing but happy, melty thoughts that make her feel good. Her mind wrapped up like candy, she just needs to listen and obey, because the customer is always right anyway. The customer is so much smarter and much more compelling than her, she just needs to be a good professional and do as she's told.

"Helena, you'll agree with everything I say without question. Right, sweetie?"

It takes her a moment to move her jaw through the thick honey, but she eventually gives a distant yet very professional response. "Yesss... the customerrr... is alllllways right!"

"That's a good girl, I knew you had it in you. Oh my, you're all loose now, except here." The perfect, lovely customer reaches over and flicks Helena's stiff nipple through her long sleeve work top, making the good girl gasp with a vacant moan. "Even with the inactive chip, you're still affected by the original formula, thankfully. I have need for you, Helena, you have your uses. I need you to come with me so that you can serve a better purpose, so I'd like to buy you. Let me make this clear, you are for sale. You've been a product for a while now, so you can quit the act." The customer lowers her shades, before pulling them off entirely. The eyes of Lady Bliss assess her shopping cart, before committing to the purchase with a certain satisfaction.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap!

Helena rubs her eyes and yawns, her senses slowly returning as the smell of flowers greets her with a gently waft. Oh, that's right. She's in the middle of serving a customer, she can't just doze off on the job. That would be extremely unprofessional.

"Sorry, jeez, I should catch up on sleep huh?"

"Oh don't worry about it, silly, you'll get plenty with me."

"Huh? With you?" She blinks a few times, trying to recall the exchange they were having, she remembers it getting heated but can't seem to find that frustration anymore.

"That's right, I'm buying you. How much do you cost, honey?"

"I... me? Oh, uh..." Helena's mind seems to try hard to compute the concept, the blanks filling in logic imperfectly but well enough. She picks up the scanner gun and tries to find a barcode, looking bewildered. "Christ, sorry, I'm half awake! Err, where's the..."

"Having trouble?" The woman hums, clearly amused as she watches Helena rationalise the concept of being bought, too professional to reject the notion as folly.

Helena's cheeks heat up with embarrassment, she's making herself look like an idiot. "I just can't find the barcode, I'm drawing a blank."

"Well maybe we just need to look harder! Here, hop up on the counter and I'll help you look."

She does just that, getting up on the counter with her legs splayed out over it, giving Lady Bliss a peek up the woman's skirt. "Look's like we'll have to take these clothes off if we're going to give it a proper look. I trust that's okay?"

"Of course." Helena replies nonchalantly, she's being totally professional. She begins to peel off her top, the stuffiness making it harder than usual. Her customer slides off her flats, then her socks, placing them to one side on the counter. She runs a patterned nail up the sole of Helena's foot, making her twitch but ignore it like a good professional. Lady Bliss smirks, her fingers tracing up to the other's hips and moving into the skirt. Helena's top is pulled up over her head and thrown aside, leaving just the thin sports bra with her nipples poking out already. She moves to unclasp it while her leggings are dragged down her smooth legs, making her suddenly realise just how naked she is. The clerk quickly checks the door for customers, but realises the sign had been flipped to closed... when did that happen?

Before she knows it, her bra falls down from her soft chest and her panties are casually slid down her legs by the fingers of her customer. The skirt goes quickly after, leaving a nude woman sat on the counter of the small flower shop, unintentionally presenting herself to Lady Bliss at the perfect height. This is all completely professional, thinks Helena, the same bored smile on her face that she gives all her other customers.

"Now, where could that barcode be?" She mutters, holding the scanner in her hand and looking over her body while Lady Bliss moves her around like a mannequin in mock investigation.

"Hmmm, I can't seem to find one!" The customer remarks, lifting up Helena's arm, then parting her legs further, even going as far as to part the nude woman's pussy lips with the same smooth indifference.

"Then... I guess I don't have a price. But, I am for sale. I know I am. So I must be free?"

"I think you must be. Yes, let's say that you're free. The customer is always right."

"Yeah... I'm free. You can have me for nothing, then. Uhm, that's... that can't be... I'm not..."

Suddenly, Helena feels a cold sensation pressing into her bare skin, Lady Bliss pushing something into her inner thigh and applying pressure until hearing a mechanical clicking noise. Pulling the object away, she gestures to the glossy black barcode now printed onto her skin. It only lingers in their vision for a few moments, before the peculiar ink seeps under.

"There it was, you're a product after all. My purchase, to be precise. How do you feel, Helena?"

The moment Helena watches the barcode against her skin, she never sees it disappear, it may have faded from sight but it's still there in her mind. She is no different to anything else sold in this store, she's here to be bought, to be owned and used. Suddenly, like a lightbulb switching on above her heavy head, everything makes so much more sense to her.

"I feel... owned."

"That's because I just bought you silly, now close up shop, I have plans for the rest of your afternoon. Don't worry, you'll still be home in time to give the sitter a generous tip."

"Of... of course, I belong to you now, so I'll do anything you ask."

"Such a professional! I apologise for ever doubting you, Helena, you've always been such an obedient submissive for me when it really comes down to it. My favourite toy."

Helena smiles, spreading her legs on the desk as her finger traces the tingly spot on her thigh where the ink had been. "I'm your toy, always!"

"That's right, there were so many good toys like you. My mother threw it all away, all our hard work... my hard work. I intend to correct that." She cups Helena's chin, leaning in and giving the toy an overpowering kiss. "Ahh, that's right, Helena, you're going to help me like the eager to please slut that you are."

"Yes... I'll do anything, I'm your eager slut."

"Shut up already and shove a few fingers in your cunt, I want you to prove just how much you adore me." There's a bitterness in the woman's tone, she's spent a long time without worship, a state unbefitting of Lady Bliss. If the sexually conflicted Stephanie's time with Sam could be considered an ego trip, this woman's life has been something of a quest.

Helena sighs, stood at the counter and leaning on her elbows as she scrolls idly through her social media feed. Almost every post is about some digital scam or something, she's barely paying any attention anyway. She squeezes her thighs and tightens her lips to stay quiet, before hearing the bell on the shop door ring. A quiet whirr stirs the clerk into action and she stands up straight, dropping her phone on the counter and balling her trembling hands into fists against it.

"W-welcome to BeeMart, where... ah! Where the deals are honey sweet a-and the customer is always righhht!"