Freeuse: Bondage Window
Lila takes on a side gig during a slow period.
Author's Note: If you want more background on this alternative reality, you can go back and read "Lila: Freeuse Slave" if you want to, but this story should make sense without it. All you need to know is that in this reality, people can sign up to rent themselves out as short-term sex slaves as a way of making a living. The plot line featuring Emily and the fucking machine comes from "Freeuse: Relationship Building."
Business had been slow for a while. Of course, it had dried up completely during the pandemic lockdown, but it had been brisk afterwards as people caught up on the hedonism that they had had to forego for nearly two years. But now it had slowed again, to a crawl. Sometimes a whole day wouldf go by with no more than one or two clients, and sometimes none.
At our most recent slaves' meeting, we discussed many possible reasons. One obvious reason was the general state of the economy, with less loose money floating around and more people worried about their mortgages than ever before. Another was simple market saturation. Our services are expansive, given that we will do all sorts of things that a run-of-the-mill sex worker would never do. The number of people (usually but not exclusively men) who are willing to pay that kind of money to indulge their tastes in BDSM kink is necessarily limited, and the number of people who could afford to do it repeatedly is even more so.
We figured that the situation would self-correct sooner or later. Women whose hearts weren't really into renting themselves out as BDSM slaves would start drifting off into other lines of work, leaving a reduced number of confirmed pain and bondage sluts competing for the remaining customer base. But in the meantime, although I wasn't having trouble paying my rent, there wasn't nearly as much cash flow as I'd become accustomed to.
I'd even considered reopening the clinical psychology practice I'd been trained for. But I really couldn't face the thought of going back to listening to all those people poor-me-ing about their hangups and wretched lives. I had gotten out of that line of work in favour of freeuse slavery for a very good reason.
A reprieve came in the form of a phone call from Sylvia, one of the supervisors at Consolidated Sex Slaves.
"Lila, hi. How are you doing?"
"Personally, I'm doing fine. Professionally, not so much. I've even been resorting to cold-calling some of my old customers, but most of the time, they just don't have the cash to hire me at the moment. I even checked in with Jason's parents, but they're sticking to their policy of making him save up his own money for my visits, and he hasn't nearly gotten there yet."
"I've got a line on an interesting side gig, if you're interested."
"I'm interested, as long as it has nothing to do with clinical psychology."
"I don't think you'll need to worry about that. How'd you like to be a store window mannikin?"
***
Two days later, I was standing outside the Paradise Adult Emporium inspecting the window display. I was certainly impressed by the selection of high-end sex and bondage equipment on display. The centrepiece was a large stainless-steel X-cross with padded straps at the wrists, elbows, knees and ankles. I could see the faint lines that told me it was jointed and motorized so the occupant could be adjusted into a variety of positions in addition to the classic spread-eagle.
There was also an elaborate fucking machine that I recognized as the same model that I had last sen my friend Emily impaled on when we were hired by Edward, one of my regular customers. "So that's where he got it," I said to myself. The card next to it confirmed that, yes, it had all the capabilities that I had witnessed in Edward's contraption, including the ability to reposition itself any way the user wanted it to. It was self-lubricating and, according to the card, could be equipped with a built-in vibrator and even an electostim system if desired.
Several stands presented an array of other interesting bondage toys, including a locking butt plug, nipple-and-labia clamp sets, and several interesting-looking gags. High-end whips and floggers rounded out the display.
Sylvia had explained the gig in some detail. "The owner, T'Jalla, likes to show off some of her higher-end toys with highly realistic and anatomically correct mannikins. Her problem, as she explained it to me, is that she doesn't seem to be able to find mannikins that are realistic enough to suit her. That's where you come in. You'll be paid a very nice flat rate for three-hour shifts to model the equipment. As a bonus, if one of the window shoppers wants to try out some of the equipment on you in person, he'll have to pay you at your usual Freeuse rate on top of the flat rate."
"That sounds like a great deal to me. When do I start?"
So there it was, checking out my work environment. I opened the door and entered the shop, and boggled slightly at the sight of shelf after shelf of sex toys and bondage equipment. I looked around until I found a woman wearing a name tag that read "T'Jalla," and introduced myself.
"Hi, I'm Lila, your new window mannikin."
