The Inspection

The door chimes and Alisha freezes, her enormous spread of dildos still scattered across the velvet settee. A quick swipe of her thumb and the panel cam shows Casey. The blonde maintenance technician has already tried the wrong code. Alisha smooths her silk kimono, ties the sash, and opens up. "System check," Casey says, eyes immediately darting to the obscenely colorful silicone forest behind her. Alisha moves aside without a word. Casey steps in, clipboard steady, but her gaze is impossible to hide. Alisha picks up a harness still glossy from its last wash and holds it loosely at waist level. "Want to know how the straps feel?" Casey’s fingers tremble against the leather and stainless buckles. Alisha kneels behind her, wraps the leather over bare hips, threads it between timid thighs, snugs it until the base snugs firm against Casey’s mound. The purple length juts proudly now. Alisha stands, feels the wet heat already gathering inside the sash of her kimono, and kisses the shell of Casey’s ear. "Use it," she breathes. "I can take it."