Sophia Needs Filling

My cock is no longer on her belly. It rests against her freshly-shaven pubic mound and... and the fantasy, the urging of her voice, and the tension in my groin are about to push me to do what I swore I wouldn’t.

I... I need to get away from her. I roll from her before my dick can “slip” into her virgin hole, and soon I’m scrambling to grab my phone as she continues to gasp and worsen my horniness. I’m nearly coming by the time the phone is in my greasy hands, and I can’t be asked to care about the hygiene of it. I only wipe my fingertips across my belly when the phone refuses to register my touch, and soon I’m there again in the menu, the sub-menu for Arousing Voice and... tap.

I’m still crazy tuned up, but her moans no longer build up the **** pressure in me. Relief washes over me as I’m finally freed from the effect... only now I have to wonder what I’ve done to her in terms of her other students. Would any of them get so horny that they attacked her? I have to hope it's because we're here, in her bed and naked and having already spent so much time together that I... I almost... whoof. I don't want to think about it, so I push it away for now. Instead, I turn her awareness on for her arousing voice; she'll figure it out in time and, with that, learn to say less to others before she gets turned into a public fuck toy.

But given her new immunities... maybe I shouldn’t care? I can’t imagine any one of them will put her in my level of debt, and even if some managed it, so what? The succubi would be ever happier and my gems would grow.

I look Sophia over. She’s recovering at last, though now her hands hover over those glowing orbs that have become so violently tender to touch. A scared, confused awareness washes over her face. She knows... on some level, at least, but she clearly knows this isn’t normal. Is she internalizing this as reason to not reach for my phone? Is it on me to make sure of it? I hope not, because the last thing I’ll do is bring more attention to the app. Instead, I decide to experiment. “Do you have money to order delivery? Like food?”

“I... wh... yes...?”

“Good,” I sigh with a grin, “then you’re going to order us a pizza while I punish you.”

The promise of more of this kind of treatment clearly terrifies her... and yet, a hesitation. Maybe it’s finally growing on her? “I... I can just... order.”

“So you’re refusing-?”

“I’m not refusing,” she sternly declares with all the authority she can manage while out of breath and glistening in my jizz. “If you want food, you don’t have to... work it into this punishment... or your flattery... I'll just buy it for us.”

It takes a minute to remember that fondling her shining body is now "flattery" for poor Ms. Lia. Soon I'd lose track of her various gifts if I'm not careful. “I appreciate that... but I have my reasons to want you to order it.”

“Hello, welcome to Pizza Shack, home of the Filled-Crust Pizza, how may I help you?” The bored teenager on the other line didn’t bother picking up the receiver; her location was dead in the lobby and she was doing her nails when the phone finally rang for whatever lunatic was ordering a plate of grease at 11:12AM. She tapped the speakerphone button with a dainty fingertip and continued to work on her attempt at making butterfly drawings on acrylic claws.

“H... Hello...”

The two men in the back of the store, separated by age but not by their degree of lust for the young adult manning the front desk, are cackling between stories when the digitized voice reaches them... and turns their heads towards the source. Neither speaks up, nor does the teen for a few heartbeats. The butterfly gets a distracting black streak across it as the teenager gets surprised by the sudden warmth or embarrassment she feels. Why did the voice startle her so...? Or move her so? “Hello?” she finally manages.

“Y-Yes, I... ah! D-Don’t... oh God I... I NEED FILLING! F-Filled crust... pizza... fuck, fuck...!”

The three employees would all have had different takes before to such an obvious crank call, including the teenager whose halfway towards hers: twisting her face in disgust and pressing the button to shut the speakerphone up. But no one moves, yet... and blood and breaths begin to rush as they become uncomfortably horny for midday work hours.

“I-I’m sorry, ma’am... are you... ordering a-”

“Yes... yeeeees, I- I mean no! I mean yes to the... pizza... cheese filling... pizza... pepperoni? P-pepper... oooni...”

“Miss, could... I can’t... understand...?” The teenager leans against the counter as she tries to catch her breath. Nineteen years young and she avoided throwing her virginity away, though that came with a stigma to things like arousal or masturbation... at least until now when the front of her crotch begins to grind on the handle of a drawer underneath the counter. She never noticed before how it was basically at clit level if she got on her tippy-toes... and now she’s appreciating it as her face reddens.

The men behind her, listening to this voice as well, are also pressing themselves against their workstations. Neither look at one another as their boners make them self-conscious, but both continue to listen in with rapt attention.

“I... what? You want me to... why? F-Fine, I’m not disobeying, I... Alright,” the stranger suddenly yelps as she nears the phone, “I need to read this... coupon... and tell me if it applies! Save... twenty-per-purrr... percent! Twenty... percent on select... ah... select... select-!”

The coupon disclaimers are nothing the cashier needs to hear, but she can't bring herself to interrupt; Sophia, meanwhile, can't bring herself to stop talking. Two minutes of stimulation roll by as her voice continues to squeal and cry, and soon the girl is left openly grinding her crotch onto the conveniently-placed handle. “Ma’am, I’m... oh fuck, I’m... sorry, I didn’t mean to... hnng...” The teen, lost in the moment, is just happy to see the call suddenly terminate. The two men observing her are just happy to watch, though their own raging hard-ons would soon need release.