Vixenscratch

Short stories and serials by Alexandra Herakai

Customer Satisfaction

Caesar and his customerThe front door of the shop chimed, attracting the attention of the Chinese crested dog who was the current clerk on duty. The shelf he was straightening blocked his view of the entrance, but it certainly didn’t block sound; he continued sorting misplaced DVDs with his ears pricked for the time being. Footfalls reached him, and he counted only a few of them before they stopped. Seconds ticked by, steadily piling up into minutes, but, far as the dog could tell, whoever had walked into the Lovers’ Lagoon didn’t move.

He replaced the last few cases of pornography onto the shelf and stepped out into the open, a friendly, not-too-forward expression on his face, tail relaxed in a gentle curve rather than raised or wagging. “Good afternoon. I’m Caesar; do you need any help?”

The person who’d entered was female seal, shorter than himself though not as short as the positively tiny calico whom he sometimes worked with. Her eyes were bright, and she gave him a brief, sort of self-deprecating smile. Her face, somewhere between dark and milk chocolate in shade and framed by well-styled brown-black hair, stood in stark contrast to the white stripe that encircled her neck like a broad collar. The colors of her so-sleek fur were tastefully complemented by the butterscotch silk blouse and cream-colored slacks that covered the rest of her body, straining just a little across a generous pair of breasts and matching hips. She giggled, a pleasantly bubbling sound, rather than something shrill and near-hysterical, glancing just past him; with a start he realized his tail had abandoned the notion of a schooled expression, and grabbed it in his hand.

“I wasn’t expecting this selection,” she admitted, her smile now more genuine. “Caught me a bit off-guard.”

“I get that a lot,” the mostly-hairless dog reassured her, walking closer. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, well, I… The kind of ‘adult novelties’ that get tucked away in a corner in the gag gift shops…” The tone of her voice suggested that if she’d had external ears, they would have been very near flat against her head. “They don’t last very long.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Caesar’s mouth; he let it. “I know exactly what you’re talking about, miss. Been there, done that. Vibrators are down that aisle, with some of the travel-size ones up closer to the register. Let me know if you have any questions, and I’ll be happy to help.”

She thanked him, and walked towards the shelves he’d indicated. He couldn’t help but to stand there watching her hips move, though at least he remembered to keep his mouth closed as his tail strained against the hold he had on it. It wasn’t until she was out of his immediate line-of -sight that he got a hold of himself, and with a shake of his head resolved to return to shelving DVDs.

Ten seconds later he still hadn’t moved.

You’re acting like a horny college kid, he mentally scolded himself, tearing his gaze from where the woman had disappeared. That thought was too-soon followed by another: Well, I am a college student. A few heartbeats later, when he started to actually move back toward his shelf, a certain discomfort brought on an admission he was somewhat embarrassed to make, even silently to himself. And right now, a horny college student.

He didn’t know what would be worse; if the ribbon seal took another five, ten minutes to pick out her purchase and his relief arrived on time, or if she either was done faster, or his coworker was late for the next shift. The former would create a near-irresistible temptation to seriously flirt with the customer, something he wasn’t sure he should be even contemplating, especially not if the intent was to score, while the latter would make the temptation moot, and maybe leave him always wondering how it would have gone if he’d only asked…

Somehow, he managed to concentrate on organizing pornography, picking out titles that had been replaced on the shelf in the wrong genre section or out of alphabethical order with practised dispassion. No matter that the covers were designed to arouse; he was used to them, and had learned to treat the barely-covered (or sometimes not at all covered) female forms with some sort of professional disinterest as long as he was at his workplace. That modestly-clad seal was another matter entirely, however, so his best bet for staying professional there was trying to focus on something else, anything else.

Which might have been why he jumped when a hand tapped his shoulder.

“Caesar, was it?”

He nodded, dumbly, feeling his heart trying to hammer its way through his ribcage, not quite sure if it was her proximity or the fright that she’d given him that caused it.

“Could I trouble you for your… professional opinion?”

Was it just his imagination, or had she glanced briefly downwards as she paused? He hoped he’d just imagined it. “Of course.” How had he even managed to keep his voice steady, there? He certainly wasn’t feeling very steady!

She started walking back as she talked, and he followed her as though she was leading him by that part of his anatomy he didn’t dare to stop for a moment to adjust. Maybe, in a sense, she was. “I’m having a bit of a difficulty choosing between a couple of these; I’m not used to having such variety. I’d really value your recommendation.”

“I don’t have personal experience, but I can tell you what I’ve heard, certainly, miss.”

“Please, call me Helen.” She stopped and reached up to take one of the display models off the shelf.

Caesar swallowed, hard, staring at her hands as she cradled the silicone penis in them, then ran her fingers lightly along it, tracing the molded veins and rubbing her thumb along the edge of its glans. It wasn’t the right size, nor quite the right proportions, or even the right color — he certainly didn’t have semi-transparent skin the color of grape soda — but he still couldn’t quite avoid putting himself in the toy’s place, shivering as a feather-light touch brushed over the silicone head.

“I understand why you don’t keep batteries in them,” she started, speaking as though she’d not even started to notice the dog’s discomfort. “But would you happen to know how this one is…” she replaced the toy on the shelf, and Caesar bit back a whimper as her fingers instead stroked over the surface of another, differently-curved model, “…compared to this one?”

“Th-the second one,” he replied, after a few seconds’ delay. “I’m pretty sure both Mrs. Martinez and Brooke had good things to say about it. I mean… better-than-average good. They, umm…” He could feel blood rising to his face and ears, and for a split second wondered where that blood could possibly have come from considering his pants felt just as uncomfortably tight as they had before the question. “I think they said it had a good shape to it.”

The seal gave him another smile, and stepped closer to pat his shoulder. “Thank you. I’ll think on it a little longer, if you don’t mind?”

He could take a hint, and retreated back to his DVD shelf, the image of her fondling the stock seeming etched into his retina, for all that he could shake the memory of it. Focus was that much harder to maintain for it, and his progress slowed to a crawl. It churned to a dramatic halt when he felt hot breath ruffle the silky fur on the back of his neck; a couple of movie cases slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor when a hand came to rest on his bony hip, another slipping around him to splay across his chest, pressing his back against the ample, silk-covered bosom he’d tried so hard not to look at since he’d first lain eyes on Helen.

“I’m ready now,” she whispered in his ear, making a shiver run down his spine. “And it looks like you are, too.”

He opened his mouth to say something without knowing quite what, and lost track of even that much when her teeth grazed the edge of his ear and her right hand started to loosen his belt. His tail wagged without any conscious input from his side, brushing against the insides of her thighs. When she reached into his pants and her fingertips found his rigid flesh, he thought he might explode then and there.

A whimper escaped his throat, and he bit his lip.

“There you go,” the seal cooed, fingers wrapping around his erection still within the confines of his clothes. “Just let it out, that’s a good boy.”

It would have been a lie to say those words pushed him over the edge, but it didn’t take long for her deft fingers and seductive words to rip a shaky howl from his throat and leave him weak-kneed, his cock spent and his clothes badly in need of a wash. He leaned back against the woman who’d put him in that state, dazedly nuzzling at her hair, just about everything about the world still fuzzy.

A minute or two later he was slinking out to the back with his tail between his legs as a redheaded calico rung up his illicit seductress’s purchases, and thinking that if he ended up losing his job over the incident, it couldn’t have been in the hands of a better woman.



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