King Pleasure Time

The first time she heard it, Caitlin almost crashed her car in surprise. She was driving along I-5, trying to make up a little time after hitting a mammoth rush hour traffic jam caused by rubbernecking, when all of a sudden the DJ came on after the end of a song and said, "And that was the Stones, with 'Satisfaction'. And remember that you'll always get satisfaction no matter where you are with King Pleasure Vibrators."

Caitlin choked back a gasp of surprise and stared down at the radio, her brown eyes widening in shock. On her morning commute, it would have been merely inappropriate; the Chucklenutz Morning Crew frequently used the kind of crude humor that made her change the station as soon as the morning traffic report was over. But this was Hannah Gates, the afternoon DJ. She stuck to weather, traffic, a few headlines, and a little trivia every now and again about the songs she played. She didn't do fake ads.

But she had to be doing one now. "That's King Pleasure, the official vibrator of Station KTRK, the station that never stops! Only King Pleasure Vibrators give you the deep pleasure you deserve whenever you need it. At work, at home, or on the go--anytime is King Pleasure Time!" Caitlin's eyes widened in astonishment as an unmistakable buzzing sound filled her car, followed by a breathy moan that Caitlin had never heard out of Hannah Gates before. She wasn't really--on the air--she couldn't be--

A sudden flare of red light out of the corner of her eye forced Caitlin's attention back onto the road, and she slammed on the brakes just in time to avoid hitting the car in front of her. Oblivious to her near-collision, the DJ on the radio moaned louder and louder until her voice melted into a hoarse, breathy whimper that trailed off into silence. Then the buzzing grew louder again. Then it stopped. "King Pleasure," Hannah sighed, sounding decidedly post-coital. "Find one at a store near you."

She went on to inform her listeners that she was about to play a long set of five songs by Heart, but Caitlin was too traumatized to pay attention. She honestly wasn't sure which was worse, the accident she'd narrowly avoided or her local radio's new foray into hardcore audio pornography. Could they even play something like that on the air at this time of day? Weren't children possibly listening? What could they have been thinking? Caitlin made a mental note to call the station manager and the FCC. She was no prude, but...

"Well," she muttered to herself, her mouth quirking in a sheepish grin, "maybe I am a little." Caitlin was well aware that she was out of step with today's permissive society, even before finding out that they advertised sex toys on the radio now. It wasn't that she didn't get...urges, she thought with a blush, feeling uncomfortably like the drivers in the other cars were staring at her. But that didn't mean she needed to talk about them to everyone who came along. Something like that was best kept to the bedroom.

Caitlin turned off the highway, heading back to her apartment and the relative sanity of two bedrooms, one bath, and no roommates. When she got inside, she tossed her keys on the table and pulled her phone out of her purse. A few minutes of Googling later, and she was dialing the number for KTRK.

They picked up on the third ring. "Hello," a woman said through a drone of static. "KTRK, the station that never stops! How can I help you?"

Caitlin shifted a bit in her chair, hoping to eliminate the hum on the line. It didn't seem to do any good. "Um, yes," she said. "I'm a long-time listener, and I wanted to register a complaint with the station manager, or the director of advertising."

"Oh, okay," the other woman said, sounding more than a little distracted. Caitlin bit back a sigh of frustration--she didn't want to start sounding like a cranky old lady at the age of thirty-five, but couldn't they find someone who didn't sound like she was surfing through Facebook while she was talking? "I, uh, the...the director of sales is out for the day, but I can get you to, um...to our public relations director."

Caitlin rubbed her temples, feeling the beginning of a headache from the insistent thrumming noise. "I was hoping for someone a little more senior," she said. "Is there a, a general manager or something?" She looked at her phone quickly, trying to figure out what was causing the bad signal, but the display showed five bars.

"I, unnnhh, I think..." The girl on the other end trailed off into silence, punctuated only by a long sigh. "He's g-gone, too. If you'd like, I can, can oh ysss...can take a message for him?" The girl's voice sounded strange, her breath coming in panting gasps between each phrase. The droning buzz on the line grew softer for a moment, then louder, then softer again.

"I'd much rather--" Caitlin's eyes widened in sudden realization as a groan of pleasure cut off her words. It took her a few seconds to find them again.

The silence on Caitlin's end was filled by the girl's grunts and moans on the other end of the line. Once Caitlin realized what was happening, she couldn't imagine how she'd missed it before now--the buzzing noise, the distracted tone in the other woman's voice, the little sub-vocal whimpers when she talked--but Caitlin still couldn't stop herself from asking. "Are you..." She struggled to find the words, her face burning with embarrassment. "Are you masturbating right now?"

"J-juss' a little King Pleasure time," the girl groaned out, her voice slurring with arousal. "I'll be done in, oh fuck, in a minute, I promise. Oh, oh guh-guh-gawwwd..." Her words trailed off into another loud moan, punctuated by the sound of the buzzing alternating between loud and soft. No, not soft, Caitlin realized. Muffled. She disconnected the phone in disgust, practically flinging it onto her sofa.

Feeling flustered beyond measure by the whole shocking display, Caitlin decided to have a quick dinner and make it an early night. She'd register a complaint with the FCC in the morning, and write the station manager an angry letter. If nothing else, that receptionist deserved to be fired. The shameless gall of it all!

Caitlin slept uneasily that evening. Her dreams were filled with buzzing sounds.

*****

The next morning's commute turned rapidly into an exercise in frustration. Caitlin found herself hitting the 'scan' button every few minutes, as one station after another succumbed to greed and ran ads for King Pleasure vibrators. Most of them settled for playing a canned ad, featuring a man cheerfully reciting their slogan--"Anytime is King Pleasure Time!"--while a woman in the background let out one breathy moan after another to the accompaniment of that relentlessly annoying buzz.

But a few of them gave on-air demonstrations. Caitlin tuned away as quickly as she could, but she arrived at work with her head filled with the sounds of one woman after another squealing with delight as the horrid little sex toy thrummed away inside them. Needless to say, she decided not to listen to the radio at her desk--if the morning drive was any indication, she'd probably get fired for lewd behavior.

On her lunch break, she found an online form at the FCC website she could use to register a complaint. Caitlin wondered as she clicked 'Submit' if anyone would even read the stupid thing--clearly there must have been some kind of change to the FCC's rules, given the number of stations now cheerfully playing ads for vibrators. She almost Googled it, but decided at the last minute that she might wind up having an awkward chat with Human Resources if the IT department caught her doing a search for 'news King Pleasure vibrators'.

The drive home wasn't much better. "Oh come on!" Caitlin caught herself shouting, when the local jazz station gave way to a male announcer's calm voice using a song by Nat 'King' Cole to transition into a frustratingly predictable advertisement. Bad enough that every single woman on the radio seemed to be fucking themselves stupid, but now she had to watch out for the men as well?

"...and just like Nat's the King of Jazz, King Pleasure Vibrators are the kings of pleasure. Perfect for prostate stimulation or just running along your cock, King Pleasure Vibrators are the toys that aren't just for women anymore. King Pleasure Vibrators--anytime is King Pleasure Time!"

Caitlin decided to stop listening to the radio for a while.

That didn't make it any better, though. Alone with her thoughts, Caitlin found herself worrying away at her irritation over the ads like a dog with an old bone. Every time she told herself to stop obsessing over the tasteless, tacky, stupid, perverted advertisements that came out of nowhere into sudden ubiquity--which was just insane, one day she could listen to the radio in perfect peace and quiet and the next she heard that awful buzz everywhere, humming and thrumming like some sort of pervert's Pied Piper, and that awful woman yesterday just shamelessly f-f-fucking herself right there over the phone like an obscene caller in reverse, and whatever happened to a little common decency, whatever happened to just satisfying yourself in the privacy of your own bed with your own fingers, why did everyone suddenly need to make masturbation their new hobby, who was really so needy that they had to spend money just to get themselves off like that--

And then she realized that she hadn't stopped obsessing at all, of course. "Oh, won't this blessed day end?" Caitlin moaned, seeing that she still had another three miles to go before her exit. She almost turned on the radio again out of sheer reflex, but forced herself to stop.

Getting home felt like sweet release. Caitlin resolved to do nothing but watch the most mindlessly escapist show she could possibly find for the rest of the night, something with puppies or kittens or puppies playing with kittens. She flipped on the television and collapsed onto the sofa, immersing herself in 'World's Silliest Pets' for a little while. "Perfect," she sighed, finally feeling some of the tension bleed out of her.

Then the ad break hit.

As soon as the commercials started, Caitlin tensed up. She knew they wouldn't, of course; if it was lewd and perverse on the radio, it would be absolutely obscene on television. They simply couldn't. But that was what she thought about the radio two days ago, and now...she caught herself flinching at every new ad, one finger on the remote control. They just couldn't. People wouldn't stand for it, they wouldn't. There was no way anyone would let them run those...those...

They did. Of course. The fourth commercial opened with a leggy blonde in an emerald-green dress reaching into her purse and pulling out a slender silver tube embossed with a golden crown around the tip. She smiled at the camera and twisted the base, causing the speakers to echo with the buzzing noise that Caitlin now found infuriatingly familiar. The vibrator quivered in her hands, too fast for the eye to follow, and the woman on the screen spread her legs teasingly. Caitlin stared in wide-eyed astonishment, the remote control forgotten in sheer disbelief. They surely couldn't do...that, could they?

They could. Of course. The woman put one knee up on her chair and slid the other in the opposite direction, pulling the dress up until the skirt was practically a belt. She wore nothing underneath it. She lowered the vibrator slowly, sensuously, teasing her labia with the buzzing tip until she let out an irritatingly satisfied moan, then gently slid it into her pussy. The screen faded to black, leaving just her voice behind her. "Anytime is King Pleasure Time..."

Caitlin decided to put in a DVD instead.

Binge-watching Disney classics helped, but only while they were actually on. Eventually bedtime rolled around, and Caitlin was left alone under the covers with her thoughts again. And as much as she tried to push it away, she couldn't stop thinking about those ads. They were infuriating, offensive to her sense of decency and morality, an affront to everything she believed and everything she thought she knew about propriety and the basic fiber of American character...and they were making her so wet she couldn't stand it any longer.

Silently, shamefully, Caitlin slipped a finger between her thighs. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she teased her wet opening, tracing hesitantly along her sensitive labia; somehow she felt like the woman in the ad was watching her pleasure herself. Caitlin imagined her knowing smile, her leering eyes looking right through the bedclothes and gazing at Caitlin's finger as it brushed through the nest of dark pubic hair to tease her clit. Caitlin squeezed her eyes tightly shut, but she couldn't make the image go away.

The woman joined in with Caitlin's masturbation, turning on her vibrator and sinking it deep into her cunt. She moaned in time with Caitlin, squeezing her legs around the thrumming shaft and shaking with pleasure at the vibrations coursing through her pussy. It all felt so real--Caitlin could almost hear the throbbing buzz of the sex toy in her ears. With a soft whimper, Caitlin gave in to her desires and slipped two fingers inside herself.

She masturbated quietly, desperately stifling her own moans as she fucked herself. Her fingers felt slippery, sliding easily in and out of her pussy as her arousal built. She was so wet, Caitlin realized. She needed this so much. The woman in green nodded at Caitlin, as if she was encouraging Caitlin to quit fighting her urges and make herself cum. She turned up her vibrator, buzzing it so intensely that Caitlin almost felt it. It was so hot, it was so good, she just couldn't, she couldn't stop...

With a choking sob of pleasure, Caitlin climaxed. Her fingers pushed in as deep as they could, and her pussy tightened around them as her orgasm overwhelmed her. The whole time, Caitlin couldn't stop picturing the woman in green cumming right along with her, shuddering in bliss as the vibrator pulsed and throbbed, delighting in the perversity of her exhibitionistic, voyeuristic display. Then ecstasy gave way to exhaustion, and Caitlin fell asleep.

She almost thought she heard the woman whispering in her ear as she lost consciousness. "Anytime is King Pleasure Time..."

*****

The next day was somehow even worse.

Caitlin remembered to bring her MP3 player and plug it into the car's speakers, so she at least didn't have to listen to more lewd ads on her way to work. But when she got into the office, she was utterly stunned to find that Mona had a new toy. Literally.

"What's the big deal?" Mona said, noticing Caitlin's stare. "It's not like it was that expensive. And I figured why not treat myself to the deluxe model, right? The little nub for the clit is worth every penny as far as I'm concerned. When you're having a rough day making the spreadsheet numbers come out right, a little King Pleasure time really helps blow off some of that stress. Am I right?" She noticed that Caitlin was still staring, even wider now, and said in a slightly confused voice, "You do have one, don't you?"

"No," Caitlin said, her voice coated with a glacier's worth of ice. She'd never even thought she would need to have this conversation with Mona. The woman occasionally talked about her latest boyfriend, but nothing even remotely this...this lascivious. "I don't have one. Some of us have enough self-control not to sneak off to the restrooms and, and...fiddle with ourselves, every time we have the urge. I'm not going to mention this to HR, Mona, but I'd thank you to get that thing out of my sight."

Mona's return stare looked more like confusion than anger. More than just confusion--she looked bewildered, like Caitlin had just informed her that all the pigs flew where she came from. "Suit yourself," she said, taking the vibrator off her desk. She reached over for a small bottle of slick green fluid, and trickled a little onto the shaft. Then, with a grunt of pleasure, Mona spread her legs and slipped the toy under her skirt. Moments later, the air was filled with a low buzzing noise.

"Oh, really, Mona!" Caitlin snapped in exasperation. "Honestly, that is just the limit! I'm sorry, I didn't think it would come to this, but--" She sat down at her chair and turned on her monitor, pulling up her email with angry clicks of the mouse. "I'm going to have to let Human Resources know that you're, you're...indulging. This is a place of work, not a..." Caitlin trailed off into an embarrassed silence as she admitted, to herself at least, that she didn't know enough about that kind of thing to finish that analogy.

Caitlin practically broke a nail typing her email, and clicked 'Send' with furious energy. Behind her the whole time, she could hear the muffled buzz of Mona's deluxe King Pleasure model (they had different models?) and Mona's quiet, urgent moans. "Oh, oh that's...mff, yes, oh fuck that's good, cumming cumming cumming..." Caitlin tried not to picture what was going on behind her, but her imagination seemed to have gotten shamefully vivid over the last few days.

A few minutes later, Caitlin got a reply from HR. She opened it, but all it said was simply, 'See Attached'. With a sigh of irritation, Caitlin clicked on the attachment, a PDF entitled 'Amendment to Code of Conduct'.

Her jaw dropped when she saw what it said. 'Effective immediately,' it read, 'the use of personal massagers to relieve workplace stress is considered to be an acceptable office activity. While employees are encouraged to keep to the dress code when engaging in stress relief, the company understands that not all outfits are conducive to personal massage. If you need to loosen or remove restrictive clothing, please make sure to get dressed again when finished.'

Caitlin read it three times. Then she deleted it. She spent the rest of the day silently fuming, her concentration and productivity shot to hell by Mona's constant gasps and whimpers and that endless, inescapable buzzing noise. The worst part was when Mona walked by her desk on the way to lunch, her face aglow with post-coital bliss, and said, "Oh, Cait, honey, you look awful. That stress is gonna kill you if you don't watch out."

By the time she got home, Caitlin was half-convinced she was going insane. The other half of her was convinced that she was dealing with the most elaborate, twisted, and utterly perverse prank in human history. Nothing else made sense. Everyone kept acting as though this sudden urge to constantly masturbate was completely normal, as though diddling yourself with a vibrator was no stranger than going out for a cigarette break or a cup of coffee. (Actually, it was probably a bit more accepted than cigarette breaks, if the Code of Conduct was anything to go by.)

Caitlin ate a dinner she barely tasted and collapsed into bed, fighting the urge to masturbate. She dreamed of the woman in green, lewdly displaying her glistening cunt, fucking herself with a vibrator almost the size of Caitlin's arm with the words 'Ultra Supreme Edition' on the side and whispering, "Anytime is King Pleasure Time. Anytime is King Pleasure Time. Anytime is King Pleasure Time..." and woke up in the middle of the night convinced she could actually hear the buzzing sound.

She looked up at the ceiling, and realized her upstairs neighbor had a new toy as well.

*****

By lunchtime the next day, Caitlin was clinging to the faintest shred of pride. She'd long ago given up fighting the endless masturbation fantasies; in her mind's eye, she was sliding her King Pleasure deep into her soaking wet cunt again and again until she was drunk with euphoric bliss. The insistent buzz of Mona's vibrator felt like it was worming its way into her head, boring down through her resistance like a dentist's drill and leaving her open to every fantasy. She couldn't stop thinking of Mona, the woman in green, the receptionist, Hannah, the jazz announcer, and all of them chanting the same refrain. "Anytime is King Pleasure Time..."