My mind would tell of bodies changed to forms new and strange.
--Ovid
VANO'S WONDROUS ANTIQUES JEWELRY AND ODDMENTS. Jackson's thick lips sucked on the straw of his coke, staring at the wooden sign hanging above a wooden door along the back of the movie theater. He hadn't noticed the strange store when he parked there, although the entrance was just in front of his car.
Must've been too busy thinking about Becky's tits. Fucking bitch.
Jackson usually had no trouble sealing the deal, at least until the girl got to know him. He had a pretty boy face, curly dark brown hair with expressive eyebrows, and cute cheeks that highlighted the thing girls loved the most about him: his lips. They could almost be called plump, but that doesn't quite capture it, Jackson's lips were...substantive. Whether he was pouting or grinning or scowling, Jackson's mouth could transform his face, and when Jackson wanted to kiss a girl or go down on her one sultry bite of his lower lip was usually all he needed.
But if Jackson was willing to use his pretty boy face, he was proud of his manly body. He was a wide receiver for the college football team, and, as his bros often said when they compared gains, Jackson was "fit af." His body was ripped with a clearly defined six pack and impressive pecs lightly dusted with fine brown hair, yet he was still limber and quick. Of course, some may think this was in part compensation for a rather unimpressive 4" penis.
Stupid whore. It's not my fault she wanted a horror movie and then gets upset when I laugh at it. That's the whole point, they're so over the top you're not supposed to take them serious.
Becky
had
been a little put off by Jackson cackling at the graphic dismemberment of college students, but mostly she was skeeved that he spent most of the movie trying to feel up her skirt. Jackson figured she was being playful, a little hard to get. At least until he nearly fell on his face in the parking lot, leaning into a kiss she leaned right the fuck out of.
Jackson tossed his soda on the ground and hopped in his car, checking his phone again.
Fuck
.
The closest thing he had to a reliable fuck buddy left him on read 10 minutes ago, which meant she wasn't interested. He figured he could probably find some action on tinder, but that would require pretending Jackson gave a shit about what women had to say. In Jackson's mind he had played enough of a feminist for one night.
And even if I did get some action that fag Merlin would just whine about being sexiled.
Jackson put the key in the ignition, preparing to head back to his dorm with blue balls. But the sign caught his eye again. It didn't seem like the kind of place that'd be open at 9pm on a Saturday, and back of the movie theater was hardly prime real estate.
Maybe it's a sex shop. Sex toys count as odd, right? Could get some old porno mags to pin up on the wall, Merlin would hate that haha. Besides, I could use a new grinder, sex shops always got some weed stuff.
Jackson got back out of the car and entered the store to a soft chime. He didn't know what he'd expected when he walked in, but it wasn't what he found.
Guess "oddments" means every fucking thing you could think of.
The cinema must have given the store a whole theater, the ceiling was two stories high and rows of racks were filled up to the top. There were board games and nicknacks, clothes and costumes and jewelry and antiques. If Jackson were a curious person he might have been amazed at the variety of merchandise all around him, but Jackson was not very curious. He'd come in looking for porno mags and weed paraphernalia, and that's all he was looking for.
Thankfully for Jackson it wasn't long till he found something promising--in a corner a giant black dildo stood on a stand, lit by a single flickering candle. Jackson only glanced at it, uninterested and a bit annoyed at whoever made it. Like they were setting up guys for disappointment when they couldn't measure up to their girlfriend's toy.
But near the dildo Jackson found what he was looking for, a display case full of glass pipes. Most were pretty standard, cheap little one hitters, but a few had crazy intricate glasswork. He also chuckled as he realized along the bottom row of the display cabinet were a bunch of fleshlights.
Puff and pull. Doesn't sound like a bad plan, actually.
Jackson looked around for a worker to open the case for him, but nobody came when he called. He took a better look at the case and realized the lock on the sliding glass door wasn't latched, so he slid it open himself.
He looked at a few different pieces, none worth upgrading his old reliable pipe. But as he bent to put a piece back on a lower shelf a fleshlight in a gold painted box caught his eye. He picked it up for a better look.
JACKOFF Custom Mould Premium Masturbation Sleeve
, it read in big, bold letters. Jackson flipped the box over and read the description:
The Jackoff is the world's FIRST premium masturbation sleeve designed for YOU. Just dip your stick in our patent pending polycarbonate material and enter a world of ecstasy. The Jackoff's next-gen masturbation software morphs to form a perfect fit for any pecker.
In smaller print below the description was a disclaimer:
Limit 1 per customer. Check quality seal before purchase, no refunds.
And sure enough, along the crease was a small sticker seal.
Well at least they're not selling used sex toys
, Jackson thought, as he turned the box in his hands. The description did intrigue him. After all, who wouldn't want a fuck hole literally shaped to your dick?
Jackson was considering calling out for a shopkeeper again when he saw the price tag. The original $250 tag was clearly visible, but it had been crossed out, and a post it note underneath it read $500.
God damn
, Jackson thought. His parents were loaded, and he had a weekly allowance that would see other students through a semester, but even he balked at the idea of paying $500 for a fleshlight.
They must've gone out of business. Maybe it was too good and $250 wasn't enough for them to make money. I mean if this pawnshop is gonna mark it up 100% it must be like, collectible right?
Jackson smiled to himself. His lips made for a great smile, like an earnest but naughty kid's. It had gotten him out of trouble countless times before, and he figured it could again if it had to--still smiling, Jackson slipped the box under his jacket, and headed for the exit.
Jackson had enjoyed the thrill of shoplifting since he was little, and as he tried to walk out as quietly as he could he could feel his dick stir with the excitement of the risk and expectation for the reward. But then he couldn't find the exit. The stacks of merchandise seemed to grow thicker, the rows more jumbled, and soon Jackson didn't know where he'd been or where he was going.
Just when he was about to give up and stuff the fleshlight on a shelf so he could call an employee for help, Jackson found the door. Relieved, he sprinted for it, chuckling to himself at the small red sign by the exit: SHOPLIFTERS SHALL BE PUNISHED TO THE FULL EXTENT OF THE LAW.
When Jackson walked out the door the bell that had chimed softly when he entered started ringing like an alarm. Jackson burst out of the store, jumped in his car, and peeled out of the parking lot.
----
The moment Jackson was back in his freshman dorm he got to work opening the box. The seal was really strong, but once he cut it with a pocket knife the whole thing smoothly fell open. The Jackoff certainly felt like an expensive piece of equipment. Its white anodized aluminum shell had a good heft to it that was comfortable in the hand, while the cap twisted free with a satisfying click. But Jackson was disappointed to see the rubbery material wasn't even shaped like a pussy or ass or anything, just a thin slit in a boring beige rubber.