Sex Sells - Stories of Strange Products and Erotic Marketing
All These Roadworks
Sex Sells
Stories of Strange Products and Erotic Marketing
© 2019, 2021, 2023, 2024 All These Roadworks
The author asserts their right to be identified as the creator of this work under the name “All These Roadworks”.
All images in this book, including cover art, were created by All These Roadworks.
All characters in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters involved in sexual situations are intended to be aged 18 years or over, and any implication to the contrary is an unintentional miscommunication.
The events and themes presented in this story are for the purpose of erotic fantasy. They are not intended to depict actual events that have happened, or should happen. The author believes firmly that real sexual relationships should only occur between consenting adults, and be built on the principles of respect, communication, honesty, and risk-aware enthusiastic consent.
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Table of Contents
Foreword
The Blonde Lifestyle
The Chastity Implant
“Consent”-brand Lipstick
The “Good Girl” Package
Inclusions
Independent Girl
Joke Swimsuit
Keeping Up With Teen Fashion
Life Control Industries
Objectification Boutique
Party-Plan Wine Sales
Premium Lager
The Purpose of Clothing
RiskMaster
Sea Cow
Sex Kitten Sleepwear
Slutwear
Slut Wrap™
Speaking Tour
The Teen Magazine Monopoly
Treasure Hunt
True Beauty
Wild Cow
Parted Lips Feminine Accessories, Part 1
Parted Lips Feminine Accessories, Part 2
Parted Lips Feminine Accessories, Part 3
Parted Lips Feminine Accessories, Part 4
Bonus: Fictional Magazine Cover Gallery
Foreword
It’s a fantasy, not an instruction manual.
The stories collected in this volume are kinky fantasies. It’s normal to fetishise the forbidden. It can be a healthy way of processing trauma or frustration from our daily lives. It can be fun, satisfying, and exciting. Don’t feel ashamed to enjoy them.
But it’s the responsibility of everyone – and particularly people with these fantasies – to work to create a world where everyone – and, specifically, women – are safe, respected, and able to indulge their sexuality without shame or fear, whether that means consensually engaging in wonderful fucked-up kink, or living their entire life without ever encountering it.
Satisfying, sustainable kink can only be built on a foundation of firm respect for boundaries, respectful communication, and positive, explicit, enthusiastic consent. That’s a world where everyone kinky will find it easier to find partners and hook up for the interactions they enjoy, and where those who aren’t interested won’t be bothered – and that includes people who might be interested, but not now, or not under these conditions, or not with you.
Don’t let your kinks be your politics.
If you don’t already have anyone to share your kinks with in real-life, get involved in your local kink scene. Join an online community. Be polite, ask what the local rules are, listen to people who know what they’re doing before you go charging in yourself, introduce yourself and be prepared to make friends before you make partners. Confidence is sexy; not being able to hear a “no” is not.
I’m not your manifesto, and I’m not anyone’s plan for a functional society. Read, enjoy - and then go out and be fantastic, safe, respectful kinksters.
===
Speaking of which – if you obtained this document without paying for it…
Writing takes time. It’s easier if I’m paid for it. Please consider visiting my website and leaving a tip; buying this story collection or a different one; or subscribing.
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The Blonde Lifestyle
Nicola bought the hair dye on an impulse, lured by the attractive model on the box and the slogan printed on the side - “Blonde: It’s a lifestyle, not just a hair colour.”
What she didn’t realise was that she was massaging more than just dye into her scalp. The dye contained several other interesting ingredients. She got a large dose of them as she rubbed them into her head, but they would also cling to her newly-blonde hair, allowing her to constantly inhale them over coming days.
The first was a mild euphoric. Using the dye felt *good*, and soon Nicola was reapplying it weekly.
The dye also contained several hormonal supplements. Over the weeks after her first application of the dye, Nikki found her sex drive increasing (to the point where it was sometimes difficult to think clearly), her breasts swelling and lactating as they were tricked into thinking she was pregnant, and her capacity for clear thought beginning to recede.
The chemicals also distributed throughout her body, and had further euphoric effects as they combined with other substances in her physiology. Firstly, the chemicals loved Vitamin D, and Nikki began to subconsciously associate the feeling of sun on her skin with happiness, and accordingly began dressing in skimpier and skimpier outfits, and going nude when she could get away with it. The feeling of sunlight on her tits or pussy was particularly gratifying.
Secondly, the drugs reacted to male semen in her stomach, cunt or ass, producing an addictive high. Nikki was initially scared when her next-door neighbour visited, having noticed her new wardrobe, and proceeded to sexually assault her in her own bedroom, but from the moment he ejaculated in her cunt, she felt such a wave of happiness that by the next day she was begging him to use her again. She was soon trawling nightclubs of an evening, dressed in practically nothing, servicing random men in the toilets or nearby alleyways, desperate for someone to cum inside her.
When she realised what was happening to her, she called the complaints line for the dye, but all she heard on the other end of the phone was a weird white noise. She listened to it for a while... and then an hour passed, and she was still listening. Abruptly, it clicked off, and a voice said, “Who am I speaking to?”
She had always called herself Nicola, and hated when people shortened it. “Nikki” was a name for bimbos or strippers. But now she heard herself say, “I’m Nikki and I have big stupid tits,” and then she giggled like an idiot.
“What are you good for, Nikki?” said the voice.
“Raping!” she exclaimed happily, and giggled again.
“Good girl, Nikki,” said the voice, and Nikki was inordinately pleased by the praise. “Go be a good slut now, and call back if you have any more doubts.”
“I will! Thank you, daddy!” Nikki said. She hung up. It was time to go out and get someone to use her like the bimbo whore she was. She decided that tonight she would dress in a butt plug, nipple clamps, dog collar, high heels and a labia spreader...
The Chastity Implant
Thanks to the spread of a puritan religious culture, a great many young women had come to believe it was an important to be a virgin on their wedding night, and to avoid any sexual activity before marriage, whether that be intercourse with a man, or merely pleasuring themselves with their hands or a device.
But the natural sex drive of every woman made it hard to stick to such a plan, resulting in feelings of guilt and shame whenever a young lady gave in to a night of passion with a boyfriend (or a furtive session of masturbation while fantasising about such a tryst).
That was where Dr Cillian Hollins became involved.
“What does this device do, Dr Hollins?”
The man asking the question was Roger Bertley, and he was standing in Dr Hollins’ clinic with his eighteen-year-old daughter Gabrielle.
“It’s a simple pair of tiny implants,” explained Dr Hollins. “One will go in the flesh of Gabrielle’s groin, near to the nerves of the clitoris, and the other will be implanted in her cerebellum. Both operations would once have been quite difficult, but today they are relatively trivial, for implants of this size.”
Gabrielle looked worried, but eager. “And they will help me remain chaste?” she asked.
“Absolutely,” laughed Dr Hollins. “The implant in your brain is a simple speech limiter. It will stop you talking about sex. It simply intercepts any attempt to send signals to your throat and mouth which would produce words associated with sexual activity, arousal, or things such as breasts, vaginas, or penises. You’ll be unable to vocalise the words - and it will make you feel mildly nauseous to try. It will stop you asking for sex, or tempting men into engaging in sexual activity with you.”
“That sounds… scary,” said Gabrielle.
“The implants are reversible once you are ready to have them out,” Dr Hollins. “I would expect you would remove them once you become engaged.”
“And what about the other one?” asked Gabrielle’s father. “The one in her - well, her pussy?”
“It simply conditions her out of whorish behaviour,” said Dr Hollins. “It will give her a mild electric shock if a body part or external object touches the flesh between her labia while she’s aroused. It’s quite painful, but not dangerous, and over time it produces something of an aversion response. If an object actually goes inside her vagina while she’s aroused, the shock is considerably more agonising.”
“What about medical procedures?” asked Gabrielle’s father. “Or what if she’s raped?”
“If she’s not aroused, the implant does nothing,” said Dr Hollins. “Presuming that she doesn’t behave like a slut with her gynecologist, there should be no issue having a speculum or suchlike used on her.”
Gabrielle blushed deep red at the very idea that she might become aroused by a gynecological exam.
“And, in fact, if she *is* raped, there’s a bit of an additional defence mechanism there,” said Dr Hollins. “If the implant detects that her vagina is being penetrated while she’s *struggling* - that is to say, if muscles throughout her body are tensed rather than relaxed - then it will automatically stimulate her natural lubrication, to prevent damage to her vagina, and upon conclusion of the penetration it will release a euphoric stimulant that will give her a deep sense of relaxation and happiness, to prevent trauma from forming in her brain.”
“It sounds like an orgasm,” giggled Gabrielle.
“Far better than an orgasm, my dear,” said Hollins. “These drugs are quite strong. They could even be addictive, if you were exposed to them regularly - but they should be completely safe as a one-off precaution against a horrible event.”
“It sounds perfect,” said Gabrielle’s father. “An excellent protection of chastity. What do you think, Gabrielle?”
Gabrielle was beaming with happiness. “I think we should get the implants as soon as possible.”
===
When Dr Hollins had Gabrielle alone, naked and anesthetized in the surgery, he took the opportunity to photograph her beautiful young body, and then masturbate over her sleeping form, ejaculating on her breasts and then massaging the sperm into her titflesh.
Then he went to work on the operation.
When it was done, he sent the dazed, groggy Gabrielle home with her father. It would take around a week for her vagina to heal from the operation, he told the pair, and Gabrielle should return for a checkup once the healing was complete.
===
When Gabrielle returned, Dr Hollins had her strip naked. Then he placed her on his examination table, her legs spread and strapped into stirrups. For good measure, he strapped her hands down too.
He smiled at her, and said, “Open your mouth.” She did - and he pressed a ball gag between her lips, strapping it into place. Her eyes widened, and she tried to ask him what he was doing, but only muffled, indistinct sounds were audible through the gag.
Then he stepped between her legs, unzipped his pants, and pushed his hard, erect cock slowly into her spread pussy.
She screamed into her gag - partly in surprise, but mostly in pain, as the implant detected the penetration of her pussy and began to repeatedly shock her. Her arms and legs flexed against the straps, trying to break free so that she could push Dr Hollins away from her - and immediately her pussy began to self-lubricate, making it easy for Hollins to continue to fuck his cock in and out of her.
“I know it hurts,” said Dr Hollins as he raped her. “The only thing more fun than raping the virginity out of a silly little slut is knowing that she’s in agony as you do it. But the best part is yet to come.”
He kept fucking her as she screamed and struggled, until he felt his own orgasm approaching. Sighing with happiness, he grabbed her tits and used them to pull his whole body tight against her, as he shuddered and ejaculated into her virgin cunt.
And as her implant detected the sperm in her pussy, and felt Dr Hollins pulling out, it gave her her reward - a sudden and overwhelming burst of happiness chemicals. Her body shook with an unexpected, powerful orgasm, and her face went slack as her brain was flooded with endorphins - and other, more powerful drugs.
She looked at him in mute astonishment, left stupid by the transition from agonising rape to sheer bliss.
“Good little slut,” said Dr Hollins. “Now, let’s get you tidied up so we can invite your father in. I think you’ll need appointments like this twice a week from now on, don’t you?”
===
When Gabrielle was dressed, and her father was invited into the examination room, she clearly wanted to tell him that she had been raped - but whenever she tried to form a thought to discuss any aspect of sex or violation, her brain simply shut it down. The implant did its work, and Gabrielle was completely unable to communicate about sexual activity.
She also clearly didn’t want to come back twice a week for check-ups, but despite her violent objection to such a plan she was completely unable to say why, and her father quickly became frustrated by her “bratty behaviour”.
“Don’t worry, doctor,” he told Dr Hollins. “I’ll have her back to you twice every week, if I have to drag her here on a leash.”
“Excellent,” said Dr Hollins.
===
In any case, Gabrielle’s objections didn’t last for more than a couple of weeks. On each visit, Dr Hollins raped Gabrielle, enjoying her cunt as she first screamed into her gag, then shuddered with orgasm and pleasure. After the first week, he didn’t even both to strap her down. Gabrielle had figured out she needed to scream quietly, because if anyone saw her being fucked she would be unable to explain that she hadn’t consented. She would struggle with Dr Hollins - just enough to lubricate her pussy - but he was always able to overcome her, pull off her clothes, and force his cock into her.
And after two weeks, Gabrielle realised that she was addicted. The drugs the implant gave her when she was raped were powerful, and with each raping she found herself thinking more and more in the days between check-ups about how good that release had been, and how much she needed to feel it again. Soon, rather than her father having to drag her to appointments, she was reminding her father that it was time to go back to Dr Hollins, and asking if she could have more frequent visits.
She hated it, of course - that she had become addicted to painful rape. But she couldn’t deny it.
“You know that you can get this feeling from other men,” Dr Hollins reminded her as he fucked her. “In fact, I think you probably should. After all, sooner or later I’m going to get you pregnant, and it won’t be acceptable for you to say that I’m the father. You should probably prepare a plausible story about being fucked by someone else, to establish the parenthood of your child.”
“But I can’t…” she paused, blushing. “I can’t ask for it. I can’t talk about… this. I can’t say I want it.”
“I know,” said Dr Hollins. “It’s a source of endless amusement. You can’t consent, you can’t say yes - but you also can’t say no, and can’t say stop. You’re just going to have to use your body language to get men to rape you, my dear.”
He suspected it would get easier for her over time. Once someone raped her, and found that it made her wet, and eventually made her cum, and that she wouldn’t complain about it to anyone, word would get around, and each man who she allowed to rape her without objection would just reinforce her reputation as a slut who liked it rough. If he didn’t impregnate her with a rape baby, someone else surely would.
But what he was really watching for, of course, was another kind of conditioning - one that she started to display with pleasing speed. On only the fourth week, he noticed that she was wet even before she started to struggle.
She had begun to associate both the violation of rape, and the specific electrical pain in her cunt, with sexual pleasure. The knowledge that she was about to be non-consensually fucked was making her aroused, and every shock to her twat was just making her hornier.
That was perfect. Because he wasn’t quite finished with her degradation yet.
Over the next few months, the implant inside her was slowly going to run out of its euphoria drugs, administering less and less with every orgasm, until finally it had none to give.
And Gabrielle was going to find out that she was now helplessly addicted to painful rape - but that if she wanted to cum from it, that was going to be all up to her.
“Consent”-brand Lipstick
Young women do not always make the best decisions. For example, the new “Consent”-brand lipstick was all the rage right now among Rosie’s friends. Its bright colour schemes (including “Rapebait Red” and “Fucktoy Fuchsia”) drew the eye, and it was priced so surprisingly cheaply that even the poorest teen girl could afford some.
Its advertisements ran with the tagline, “For when you don’t want him to take no for an answer,” and showed attractive models with bright lipstick being seized by handsome men and ravished in ways they were powerless to stop - but which they clearly were deliriously happy about.
Rosie loved the brand - until her best friend Karl raped her only a week after she started wearing it. He pushed her down onto her bed, ripped her clothes off, spread her legs, and ploughed her cunt as she struggled and protested until he had ejaculated inside her. Afterwards, he took photographs of her naked body, the cum leaking from her cunt... and the box her lipstick had come in, tag-line and all.
He told her he would be back tomorrow for more. He told her to wear the lipstick again or he would share the photos.
After he was gone, she got as far as typing the police number into her phone before she thought it through. They were going to ask her why she had worn the lipstick for him if she didn’t want to be raped. After all, the marketing had been very explicit, hadn’t it? It didn’t matter that all her friends were wearing it too - they were going to say she had *wanted* to be raped, that she had *invited* it.
So she did nothing. The next day she wore the lipstick for Karl again. This time he raped her ass before turning her around and cumming in her pretty lipstick-decorated mouth. He took photos again.
Soon she discovered the same was happening to many of her friends. The boys who were raping them got together and began to share the girls around. Rosie “consented” to a lot of boys that month, and as the collection of pictures they had of her grew, and she became more and more scared that someone would show them to her parents or her employer, she “consented” to other things, like planting slutty lipstick kisses on the bare pussies of her friends; like sitting naked and dog-collared at parties where the boys laughed and joked and took turns shoving their cocks into the mouths and pussies of the various girls they had enslaved; like licking Karl’s cum out of her friends’ anuses, cunts, or mouths like the good little fuckdoll she had “consented” to become.
After a while Karl told her to stop putting the lipstick on her mouth, as it wasn’t an important part of her, and soon she became used to the humiliating process of starting every day sitting nude on the edge of her bed and carefully applying “Puta Plum” lipstick to her labia...
The “Good Girl” Package
When Kerri had gotten her breast enhancement, she’d opted for the “Good Girl” Package, without really inquiring what was in it. She just liked being called a “good girl” - the name appealed to her.
The surgeons didn’t bother to tell her either, assuming she’d read the documents, just like any reasonable person would have. So as it happened, she found out what the package involved entirely by chance, some time after her surgery.
She had made the mistake of going out without a bra, wearing one of her older, cheaper blouses, and by happenstance the front buttons of her dress gave way, exposing the nipples of her big new fake tits to sunlight.
Good girls, it turned out, exposed their tits in public – and to produce this result, the surgeons had put in small photoreceptors behind the nipples. When the skin above the receptors was exposed to direct UV radiation, a wireless signal was transmitted to another, slightly larger, implant that had been embedded in her cunt-flesh, directly behind her G-spot.
The moment her nipples were exposed to the sun, she felt something begin to buzz and vibrate powerfully in her pussy. At the same time, all three implants began emitting hormones that triggered her body’s instincts around arousal and breeding. She moaned as her nipples stiffened, her pussy became sopping wet, and a powerful urge to be fucked took hold of her.
She was standing in a busy street. People were looking at her. She knew she should pull her shirt closed, but the sun just felt so good on her tits... it was hard to think straight with the buzzing and the hormones. Unconsciously, she began to bend forward, cupping her tits, offering them to the light, while sticking her ass outwards, presenting it as a target for fucking...
Moments later she orgasmed powerfully, noisily, in public. Blessedly, the implants shut off as they detected her orgasm. They would start again in ten minutes, but by that time she had covered her tits and run, blushing, for cover.
She started making enquiries immediately as to how to have the implants removed, but by the time those enquiries had progressed very far she’d already accidentally felt the kiss of sunlight on her nipples seven or eight times, each time resulting in an orgasm outdoors.
She was beginning to associate having her breasts bare in public with overwhelming pleasure. She had surreptitiously gone to a topless beach, and spent much of a day in a haze of sexual bliss, publicly orgasming as her tits soaked up the sunlight. By the end she had removed her bikini briefs so that she could fingerfuck her sopping pussy, completely forgetting where she was or who might be watching. It was only the setting of the sun that allowed her to slowly regain control of herself. Her swimsuit had blown away sometime during her bliss; she blushingly crept home nude.
And so eventually she abandoned her efforts to fix herself; she just stopped trying. More and more she went bare-titted in public. The hormones made her stupid and slutty when she did, but it just felt so good she didn’t care. She was happier as a stupid bare-titted slut than she ever had been wearing clothes...
Inclusions
Sara and Riya, twin sisters, had gotten into the property market young, and unwisely. Overly excited at auction, they had paid nearly $200,000 more than the house was worth. Two years later, unable to keep up with repayments, they were in a position where even selling the house wouldn’t recoup enough money to pay off their loan. The debt collectors hounding them were becoming increasingly scary.