The Chain: Link 5a - Sex Stories

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The Chain: Link 5a

Date: 10/3/2014, Categories: Fantasy & Sci-Fi, Author: PervyStoryteller, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

all to prepare him for the sight of the young woman sitting at his desk, with her back to his computer, legs crossed, jaws going to town on a piece of gum, tight fitting sports gear covering a mass of bulging flesh, a tangle of dark tresses falling all over the place. “Who are you?” he demanded. “How did you get in?” Unfazed, the woman smiled at him. “Hello, Sam,” she said. “Or should that be Samantha? You can think of me as your fairy godsister of the figurine if you like.” Sam just stared, his mind trying hard to work things out, but any sensible explanation unforthcoming. “I know,” the woman said. “I’ve been telling ‘em it’s a bit naff, this figurine lark. I told ‘em; I said it would be, like, brilliant if we could, like, be the genie in the lamp, you know? Just appear in a puff of smoke.” Sam shook his head. “What are you talking about?” he said. “And who are you?” As if she hadn’t heard, the woman said. “They’re not buying the idea, though. They say as it would cost too much, the postage, sending a lamp to people. Crock of shit, I reckon.” “Would you please just tell me what you’re doing here?” Sam asked, feeling as if his entire world was dissolving. “You people really are slow on the uptake,” the woman told him, chewing hard on her gum. “It’s simple. You kiss the figurine, you get what you’ve always desired. What’s the problem?” “The problem?” Sam exclaimed, waving an arm in her direction. “What do you think is the problem?” The woman gave a little frown, her jaws ... relentlessly working the gum like a particularly tense football manager with ten minutes left to rescue a draw. “Look, doll,” she said. “You entered into the deal by kissing the figurine. That means something; it always does.” “Samantha…” Sam began, feeling the need to explain. “Sam, Samantha,” the woman cut in. “What’s the difference? Now if you was a schizo, that would be different, and we wouldn’t send you the offer, but…” “Of course I don’t have a split personality,” Sam corrected. “I just…” “Whatever, Mr Nitpick,” the woman said with a dismissive wave. “I know what you do and what…” “How?” Sam demanded, feeling a hot sweat come over him. “How do you know?” “You people ask too many questions,” the woman replied. “What people?” “Look, love. We’re wasting time here. I’ll be right mad if you bottle it now. I’ve got my kit with me, all ready to do your nails and face. What do you say?” This struck a nerve. Sam had occasionally attempted to do his face, but nails… The thought appealed. But what if the stuff wouldn’t come out? At least not in time? “Don’t worry about that,” the woman said. “I’ll see you’re alright.” Sam stared at her open mouthed. The woman smiled. “Yes,” she said. “I do know what you’re thinking. Now, what colour do you want your nails? Red? Pink? Maybe black or metallic blue, a goth kind of thing?” “Why ask if you know what I’m thinking?” Sam said. “Red it is!” the woman replied. After that, everything just happened. Sam was sitting down, the woman chattering and ...