Well, we ARE in the sex toy section...

You take one of your crisp new $100 bills, fold it lengthwise, and run it under his nose. You stroke his chin playfully, as you might play with one of the neighbor's dogs. He's pissed, sure. But there's something else in those eyes he's giving you. He could have slapped your hand away. He could have walked away from this job and damned the consequences. But he's not. He's here, being played with by a hot (and to him, unapproachable) girl, and he seems to be getting more and more used to the idea with each passing moment.

You started off doing this for shits and giggles, but now, with those puppy-dog eyes staring at you, you realize that this could actually be really, really fun.

"I wasn't kidding, Trent. I want you like this, and I want to make it good."

His eyes perk up when you dangle the possibility of sex in front of him. You're about to push Trent further when the manager walks by. You pull your hands back quickly, and turn to face the toy shelf. It's not in your interest to get your new pet fired; after all, you can't **** him if he doesn't work here anymore. Instead, you try to assume your best "informed shopper" voice and ask him about the selection.

"Well, the thing is, I have this new toy, but I can't find anything that goes with it. Perhaps you can help me?"

He's taken aback for a second, but the proximity of the manager and hours of sales reflexes kick in. "Well, uh, ma'am, I guess the first important thing is the material of your toy. That's what separates quality products from most of the novelty trash we stock here..."

He runs you through the deluxe sales pitch, taking refuge in well-worn lines. He's not bad, but he would probably be a lot better at it if he wasn't thinking about how all these wonderful bullet-point features would work on him. You get the feeling that he hadn't really thought of himself in relation to the merchandise prior to your encounter. It's fun to watch him squirm, but you admit to yourself that you hadn't really thought about using any of this stuff on him until now, either. Hell, without him you wouldn't know what half of the stuff is supposed to do.

"The important thing for insertables, no matter what you're getting, is to make sure it's made from non-porous material. That way you can clean it properly after sticking it in...(gulp) wherever, really." The wisdom of that advice hits him, perhaps as it never had before.

The manager, satisfied with the sales prowess of his employee, heads off to one of those shady-ass backrooms. Trent breathes a sigh of relief.

"Okay, 'mistress,' are you happy? Are we finished yet? Lunch break isn't for another hour, and I can't be your bitch when I'm on the job."

"Not so fast, Trent. I told you I was shopping, and I do intend to purchase something."

You pull the bills back out, and take a look at the shelf again...