The Filly and the Wetting Stick
Woah. That was a lot of letters.
Well, not a lot a lot. Paperclip had definitely seen more before. Even just last week, she’d beat her personal record for “most letters carried using a single mailbag”, and there had been like...over 300 in there. But those hadn’t been stacked as high as these were; one after the other, towering up towards the low ceiling until they just about touched the bare lightbulb suspended from it. And she needed to lick every single one before her job would be done. At least, that’s what Boss—that wasn’t his actual name, but rather just what she knew all her temporary bosses as—had said before shutting her in this room that looked like it used to be a supply closet. Somebody had dragged a table in to put the letters on, and left a chair for her, but otherwise, it was basically a closet. The floor was concrete, the walls were concrete, and the ceiling was, unsurprisingly, also concrete. It was dull, boring, vaguely dirty, and kind of cold on her hooves as she looked up at the stack of work ahead of her.
Well, saying she had to lick these letters wasn’t entirely accurate. Instead, she had to...wait, what exactly had Boss said? She had to use her...lower lips, for some reason. Or in other words, her private parts. It had something to do with his ‘subscribers’ to his newsletter thingy. Apparently they’d know if she used her normal lips and/or tongue. She didn’t really question why though; in fact, he’d told her to stop asking questions. So she’d stopped. There was no use in making her short-term employer mad, after all.
Speaking of not making him mad...she figured she’d better get started. Getting started did involve getting to the top of that tower of prepared postage, though. And as Paperclip stared up at that teetering tower, she was beginning to have her doubts when it came to picking one of them off without sending the whole thing crashing to the floor. This was going to take a lot of extra care…maybe she’d have to make that big tower into a bunch of little ones. Then at least she wouldn’t have to keep flying up to the ceiling for a while. Her wings got tired if she flew for too long, as did her tongue when she had to lick too many envelopes. But then she supposed that’s why Boss had said she wasn’t using her tongue—so it couldn’t get tired.
With her course of action settled, the courier filly looked to the sky and unfurled her wings. She gave them a quick test flap or two—the room was small enough that she had little room to maneuver horizontally, so she had to do this right the first time….especially because her test flaps had caused the stack to sway back and forth dangerously. With this in mind, she pushed off as gently as she could, making sure to keep her rapid-fire wing fanning directed as far away from the stack of envelopes as possible. Good thing she always got straight As in flight class.
She rose higher and higher, watching the leaning tower of letters swaying back and forth with every flap of her wings. Even though she made sure to stay as far back in the semi-cramped room as she could, it still came dangerously close to toppling over and making sure she’d have to spend tons of time scraping them off the floor. But she was almost there now; her eyes were finally beginning to approach the topmost envelope. She slowed her ascent, making sure she would stop just when her hooves were at the perfect height to scoop up a whole bunch of them…
“Ow!”
As it turned out, the hitch in her otherwise-perfect plan was that darn endlessly-swinging lightbulb. It bounced off the top of her head, bringing with it an uncomfortable amount of warmth on her head until she dropped back down. Okay, apparently she couldn’t go that high. She’d just have to hope that she was high enough now.
Luckily, it turned out she was. She was able to grab a big enough armful of envelopes from the top that the remaining ones didn’t wobble around quite as much. The trip down was rather uneventful, unless she considered the messy pile that the letters collapsed into when she dropped them on a corner of the table as an event. After a couple more trips, the tower was now a shapeless mound of tangled up paper organized onto the left side of the table, with an empty right side for the properly-sealed envelopes, and with her neatly sat on the chair in the middle of it all. Perfect. She kinda wished she’d had a workspace like this when she’d started, but figured it couldn’t have been helped. After all, asking for Boss to tackle the tower of letters would have been a question, and he’d been very clear that she should stop asking those. So she had, and so she hadn’t asked for this.
She shrugged. All that was left now was to do what he’d asked her to do. She reached out and took the first of many envelopes into her hooves before sinking back into the chair. Like most envelopes, it was white, not sealed, and had a little piece of paper in it. She was tempted to look at what was on the piece of paper, but didn’t for two reasons. One was that she’d be breaking the Filly Ferriers’ Courier Code, which among other things said that looking at other ponies’ mail was bad (unless they asked you to). But the other reason was that Boss had said if she did, he’d give her a knuckle sandwich. She didn’t really know what that was, but figured it would probably taste pretty nasty anyway, so she definitely wouldn’t look.
Instead, she just had to...hm. She glanced down at her privates as she held the envelope in front of her. Okay, she just had to...uh...press it in there? She knew that part was squishy, so maybe she just had to poke in the right way with the part of the letter she’d usually lick. So she did, making sure to be extra careful—Boss had been nice enough to warn her that if she wasn’t careful she might get a papercut down there, and it’d hurt. She definitely didn’t want that, so she made sure to be extra slow as she lowered the first corner towards her mound. She figured the small opening between them was the best place to start, so she carefully poked a corner in, and waited. Boss had told her that that’s where wet stuff would come out...but as she waited, nothing really seemed to happen. Hm. What else had Boss said, again?
“You gotta rub yourself to get the, uh...moisture to come out. I’ll also give ya’ a little...wetting stick tool to help out if you need. Just click the switch and hold it there, and it’ll...rub for you.”
Oh, right. Rubbing. She cocked her head and nibbled absently on her free hoof as she stared at the letter still kind of just loosely stuck in her little open bit down there. Rub, okay, sure. But...where? The outside? Then again, she didn’t think anything other than the letter corner would fit inside, so...where else? She slowly brought down the hoof she’d been nibbling on until it was level with the one holding the letter. Cautiously, she kneaded herself in a slow circle, fixated on her hoof as it traced around her lower lips. She had to be sure if what she was doing was going to work or if she had to rub differently.
Just when she was ready to give up, she felt something. It was a little weird, but kind of a little bit of a hot tingle in her groin. It wasn’t bad hot either, just...weird hot. Maybe that’s what the wetness felt like when it came out. She hadn’t seen anything...but then the letter was effectively out of sight when it was hovering just on the edge of being inside her. With more reluctance than she’d expected, she stopped rubbing and brought the corner out to see if it was wet.
Paperclip felt a smile coming on as she saw a tiny smear of liquid on the semi-adhesive strip. So it did work, and there was wet stuff there! But...did she really have to rub that long just for a little bit of wetness? Hm...maybe if she could make what little had come out work on this one, it’d be fine. She smeared it as far as she could make it go, until the wetness was more of a bunch of dampness along the strip. After a little bit of fiddling and adjusting, she managed to get it stuck closed. It was loose, but it would hold until it got through the post. Good. One down, and...at least a hundred to go.
Sigh. Maybe her hooves were going to be tired by the end of this. Unless...
Her eyes flicked to that tool thingy Boss had left. It was still leaning up against the bottom-right leg of the table. She hadn’t really given it a look before, but now was the time, considering how boring just sitting there rubbing until she felt a little bit of weird heat and got a little bit of moisture would be. It was a weird tool, to be sure—one end of it was semi-rounded and circular in general, almost like half of a softball. The other end was a rounded handle with a two-way switch in the center. The blue switch and pink handle were cute enough she supposed, but with the white head, this was one of the most cotton-candy-looking tools she’d seen in...well, ever. All this was tied neatly together by the word ‘Haytachi’ printed just above the switch in smooth semi-cursive writing.
Paperclip reached down to grab it, having to teeter on the edge of the seat that was almost too tall for her to get it without hopping down entirely. But close enough was close enough, and she was able to lean back and examine the thing more closely. It was long, and almost seemed too big for her hooves, and in fact came up to where her elbow was—clearly this was some sort of adult tool. She knew older mailponies got access to things she didn’t on account of that they were dangerous or too big for her. Maybe this was something they used usually. Heck, maybe they did the lower-lip-thing too and this tool was going to be an industry standard. She hadn’t seen it yet, granted...but then she’d never been asked to help with preparing mail for shipping before this, either. Usually she just took it where it needed to go. Maybe this was when it was used.
Anyway, she was here to do that. So why couldn’t she test it out? Slowly, she reached for the switch, and pushed it down, towards the little ‘I’ marked below its current position.
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Paperclip jumped and nearly dropped the tool entirely as it sprang to life, beginning to buzz so fiercely it made the single hoof that was holding it feel a bit like jello. She just barely managed to wrap another hoof around it, and even then, found it somewhat hard to hang on. This thing really knew how to move—and she was expected to hold this against her crotch? She didn’t even know if she could make it there without dropping the thing, let alone do it while holding a letter later on. But she had to try...so she grit her teeth and slowly brought the vibrating tool down until it hovered just above her lips...then she brought it lower, lower…
“Ahhhhh!”
Lots of things happened as soon as the super-fast-buzzing head of the vibrating stick thing touched her down there. The first thing that happened was a lightning bolt shot across her entire body, coming directly from between her parted thighs. It wasn’t a bad lightning bolt, but a good one—she could feel every single one of her nerves light up happily, especially the ones lower down. She bit her lip and drew in a sharp gasp as she held it there, feeling her hips twitch outwards under a mind of their own. Every time she ground against that super-fast thing, she felt waves of absolute goodness and hotness just flowing over every single bit of her body. Holy Celestia—was this what a wetting tool was supposed to feel like? Why...why did it feel so good?
Only after another few seconds of panting, and even moaning, did Paperclip remember why she’d engaged the tool in the first place. Now with a lot of reluctance, which she did understand this time, she switched the tool off. In less than a second, all motion stopped, and the low hum that had filled the room vanished as quick as it came. Her hooves stopped feeling like gelatin in an earthquake, and the warm waves of pleasure stopped crashing around. She sighed again, but this time not from boredom—that had actually been fun, and her sigh was more one of satisfaction. The only word she could think of to describe those past moments was…
“Wow!”
Nopony was around to hear her exclaiming to herself, of course. But she still just had to say it. Wow moments required wows; that’s just how things went in her world. But speaking of things going on in her world...how were her privates doing? They definitely felt warmer now, but would they be wetter…?
Squish.
They were! Paperclip withdrew her hoof from her groin and stared in fascination at the now much more plentiful droplets of...wet stuff. Come to think of it, what was that wet stuff? Now that she had more of it to spare, she could discover what it was. Its scent drifted through the air and entered her nose, and she found herself smelling the most unique smell she’d ever smelled. It was almost like...blueberries, but ones that had been found deep underground and had that weird heavy dirt smell that underground plants did...but also, well, a bit more wet, too. It was...good, in some strange way. She just kind of wanted to lean forward, stick out her tongue, and lick it to see how it tasted.
So she did.
“...mm!” she chirped, delighting in the swirls of flavor she was able to pick up. Blueberries were definitely in play here, but the clear juice she’d licked up was much thinner than actual blueberry-based juice was. It still had that weird earthy part to it, but as that stayed on her tongue, she felt tiny little tingles seeping into her taste buds. This stuff just kept getting better and better! Was this why the ponies wanted their letters sealed with it instead of just spit? It smelled and tasted so much better, so she definitely could see why they liked it.
Oh, right. She still had letters to deal with. Silly her.
Luckily, they seemed to go much faster after that little bout with the tool. Paperclip quickly fell into a rhythm of grabbing an envelope, carefully dabbing the edges of it into her now-damp crotch area, and then sealing the thing shut with her hooves. By the time she seemed to be running somewhat low on wet crotch stuff, she’d managed to get through about a quarter of them already. In fact, she was kind of glad that she’d begun to find a lot more dry spots—that meant she had an excuse to use that tool again. By the time she was almost definitely out, she was down to practically just throwing the completed envelopes into her pile on the right without a real care for where they landed. Two more, one more...there!
She snatched up the tool, feeling her hooves start to jitter in anticipation. She was ready to feel good again. She was ready to get some more of that wet stuff going, and spend some more time just relaxing and letting her body do its thing. She didn’t know why putting a vibrating stick between her legs made wet stuff, or why it felt so great—but hey, she wasn’t complaining. She was doing the furthest thing from it as she hurriedly placed it between her legs and squished them together, this time allowing her thighs to hold on to the big stick. That was likely going to be way more secure. Maybe she could get even more wet stuff this time! All she had to do was push that switch down, and…
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
“Mmhhhhah! Mmmaahh! Mmmm…!”
Paperclip had planned for the super-strong buzzing this time...but what she hadn’t planned for was the sudden jolt that came with powering up the tool when it was already crammed up against her groin. She felt her entire body quickly heat up as she squeezed her legs together and leaned forward, doing her best to keep the thing in place as it chugged along effortlessly. The sensation wasn’t as shocking now that she knew what to expect...but it was still strong even then. In seconds, her hips were already twitching, aching to grind against that wonderful little half-round head as much as they could...and she was glad to oblige. Even her wings got into it, fluttering behind her with every thrust.
The increasingly-familiar heat soon shifted, though. Deep in her center, driven by unrestrained high-pitched moans and panting, she felt...something begin to build. Her tummy started feeling like she had a weird knot in it, and it felt like it was getting pulled tighter and tighter the more she ground on the buzzing stick. Her lungs seemed barely able to draw in enough air to let out the next gasp or squeal, both of which she seemed to be wanting to do more and more often. But yet she just couldn’t stop, even as the knot grew tighter and her wiggling in the seat became more forceful.
“Ahhh! Mmn, yes! Ha–ah! Mmmh! Mmff...fhhhhh…”
These were sounds she never thought she’d ever make, especially just when using a simple little wetting tool. But she just couldn’t help it! The hotness was such a bubbling mix down near her crotch, the knot so tight, the urge to thrust so strong, that it all just kind of bubbled out of her throat! Even despite the growing tension, it felt good to hear her increasingly-breathless moans bouncing around the room. This...this was the best thing ever! Even as she looked down and suddenly found the stick, her privates, and even most of her thighs coated in wet stuff, she just couldn’t bring herself to stop. She was wet already, soaking even, but she just wanted to get more wet. She...couldn’t decide if she even wanted to stop or not. She kind of didn’t want to stop.
Unfortunately, it seemed the choice to stop was made for her.
A particularly hard thrust found Paperclip opening her hind legs just for a little bit of extra leverage. For holding anything else there, this wouldn’t have been a problem, but the endlessly-buzzing wetting stick seemingly wanted to be free. In less than a second, aided by the slick juices both on her own hooves and the tool itself, it tumbled out from between her legs and landed on the floor with a loud clattering. Fortunately or unfortunately, it managed to fall such that its switch was weighted back into the off position, so that it didn’t continue trying to do its thing on the concrete floor.
The young filly didn’t care about any of that, though. All she knew was that as soon as the buzzing suddenly dropped away, she felt...antsy. An involuntary whine escaped her throat as her private place stopped feeling as good as it had, and the knot in her tummy started to unravel. She even tried reaching down with her hoof to grind against it, but it was nowhere near as good as the buzzy stick—that wonderful heat was evaporating with every second and she couldn’t do anything more to fix it. It took awhile for her to accept this; by the time she finally did, everything was back to boring normality, aside from some half-hearted thrusts and squishing noises as she tried to bring back that oddly good-feeling pressure in her stomach. But her manual efforts just weren’t enough, in the end.
“Mnnuhh…”
Now that everything had calmed down, Paperclip felt the aftermath begin to sink in. She’d gotten all sweaty and hot, and not just in that weird good-feeling way. A few more frizzy bangs curled into her vision than usual, and her privates still tingled almost imperceptibly. The smell of weird earthy blueberries was stronger than ever, almost as if she was out in a field picking a whole bunch of them. Her vision swam ever so slightly, but as she blinked rapidly and made sure to breathe extra deep, everything steadied and seemed normal again.
At least, as normal as things could be in the wake of being so close to...whatever she’d been close to.
Paperclip wasn’t even thinking about the envelopes anymore as she automatically returned to dealing with them. All she could think about was that stick, even as she transferred juices from between her legs to semi-adhesive strips and sealed envelopes shut while barely giving them any glances. It wouldn’t hurt to get a little more wet, would it? After all, now she was...what, half done? She figured the wet stuff between her legs was a little over half gone; surely it wouldn’t last the whole rest of the time. Then she could pick the stick up, jam it where the sun didn’t shine, and proceed to hang on for dear life. She thought she’d really had something there! The whole experience had been like...a rollercoaster, where the higher the thing climbed, the better she felt. And while she hadn’t been rounding the hill at the top—if there even was one—she’d been close enough to feel disappointed and frustrated with losing her progress. If she just hadn’t opened her legs, then she could have been fine! Then she would have...something might have...
No. No, she had to do her job. She was a good member of the Filly Ferriers. The job had to get done; she couldn’t just sit there all day and ride the wetting stick, no matter how good it felt! Or...could she? There were only like...10 letters left, give or take a few. There were few enough that she’d moved them to the center now, and a disorganized heap of completed ones stood on the right. Distractions aside, she’d been surprisingly quick about all this. Maybe all that frustration was good when it came to driving her to work quickly. Maybe she could use it. After all, she was perhaps just a little bit too dry now—her most recent envelope felt like it’d only stuck half-closed, and while the fur around her special place felt damp, it wasn’t the kind of damp that came off on paper. Boss wouldn’t mind if she took a little extra time to make sure she did the job well, would he?
Of course he wouldn’t.
That was enough self-convincing for Paperclip to be satisfied. She felt herself grinning wider and wider as she tossed away her final envelope for the moment, and hopped off the chair, reaching for the stick. She had an idea this time to make sure that the wetting stick did its job and made her the biggest amount of wet, with no chance of it falling off or her letting it go or anything like that. She would finally find out where that tummy knot would go, she told herself as she placed the stick on the chair, with the buzzy part facing towards the table. With a flutter and a “hup!”, she scrambled up until she was on all fours, facing the door, with her rear towards the table. The smile reached its widest as she flicked the switch, lined herself up...and sat directly on the rapidly vibrating head with almost all of her weight concentrated on her lower lips.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhnnn!~”
Her efforts with positioning had paid off immediately. Paperclip felt her eyes roll back as she leaned forward and gripped the back of the chair, shuddering just about every second as her body filled with pleasure. The tummy knot returned, and it was stronger than ever. Her breath came in such short bursts in and out that she had to fight the urge to hyperventilate. The only way she could hold on and not be swept away by the overwhelming tide of electric heat washing over her body was to bear down and grind even harder, using the sensation of the buzzing to keep herself grounded.
“Mmmnnnnnh!” she squealed, pushing her rear down as hard as she could. “Hhaaaahh!” she gasped, wiggling her hips back and forth as her special place turned into something so hot it was almost cold. “Paahhhh!” she spat, her wings now almost paralyzed in an open position by the amount of bliss coursing through her entire body. “Ahhhhhhn!” she moaned, biting her lip and gritting her teeth as she bore down even more. This was almost certainly not how the wetting stick was supposed to be used, but Paperclip couldn’t care less anymore. All she cared about was how she was using it, and what it was making her do.
It was making her tongue hang out, almost dripping with excess moisture as she sang her little lungs out. It was causing her forelegs to tremble as they gripped onto the back of the chair for dear life. It was driving her hips to thrust down faster and faster, emitting a gentle squish and a ‘squeak’ from both the chair and her own throat with the effort of it all. It was making her heart go ten miles a minute as everything seemed to glow with an invisible light. It was making her tail twitch back and forth as she tried to settle into a position, only to decide on another that felt even better. Her breathing fell messily into a pattern; sharply in, shaky and unsteadily out, with delighted squeals, moans, and needy whines in between.
But above all...that knot inside her tummy was getting tighter and tighter. Even as her legs twitched, her spine shivered, and her face burned, all attention was on that one spot. Every time she pushed into the vibrating stick she felt two imaginary strands of rope being tugged on, bringing with them more heat, more breathlessness, more...feeling great. Feeling awesome. Feeling the best. Her special place was even more on fire than her face now, sending out great, big, crashing bursts of greatness with every passing second.
She was almost to the top—the top of that invisible rollercoaster, the point where the tummy knot of absolute pressure-pleasure felt like it would unravel, the moment she’d been denied for what felt like her entire life so far. She could feel the entire world dropping away as it just became her, the chair, and the vibrating stick. Thrust, squirm, “ahhhh!”, pant, wiggle, grind, “mmmm”, shift, tremble, “haaah!~”, drool, clench, flap. She was almost ‘there’, wherever ‘there’ was. She could feel it. Time was slowing down. The heat was approaching hot-summer-day levels. Her breathing caught in her chest entirely as the rising waves of satisfaction reached their crest, and she found herself teetering over the invisible edge of the world…
And then she fell off.
“A-Ahhhh! Mmmmmh! Mmmmnphhh!~ Hahhh...mmnnnnn! MMMMMMGH!~”
She couldn’t help it. As that knot finally came undone, she couldn’t help but to basically shout to the skies as everything fell to pleasant pieces around her. Her eyes crossed and defocused as every inch of her body exploded, for lack of a better word. She couldn’t even hear the wetting stick buzzing anymore, but she could definitely still feel it. She felt almost every single little jittery movement it made as it continued assaulting her sensitive mound, producing yet more waves of pleasure.
But these were different. The others had made her want more, made her more desperate, almost like she was addicted. And maybe she had been. But these waves were softer, less sharp than the ones that caused her to overflow. They felt like nothing short of the most satisfying thing ever as all the tension left her body; some of it from the tips of her hooves and dangling tongue, but most of it from her now-soaking crotch. She even thought she heard a spurt or two of tension leave her body and hit something, with each one bringing the slowly-ebbing waves just a little bit higher. Her special bits throbbed as she kept grinding, just enjoying the moment. Her hooves clenched tightly around the upper rim of the chair as she lost control of her thoughts. This was it. This was what she’d wanted. She didn’t ever want to stop humping the stick, it just felt...too...good…
Eventually, as hard as it was to believe, it stopped feeling too good. The tiredness really began to set in fast. Paperclip shuddered as she switched off the stick, before gently laying it on the floor, spinning back around, and collapsing against the back of the chair.
“Wow.”
She’d said wow earlier, of course, but this was a wow moment too. She was still having trouble getting used to just...existing now, without being covered in those overwhelming tides of good feelings. Her breath was still ragged, and little moans still escaped her lips every now and then...but things were normal-ish again. Her own body barely seemed to be in her control as she tried to sit up more straight and take a look at her lower lips now that that had happened.
Well, now Paperclip knew why they called it a wetting stick.
She did know before, of course, but now...well, everything was wet. Her crotch, her thighs, parts of her hind legs, and as she slowly traced the rest of the room, the floor, the edges of the table, the remaining letters…
Oh no. The remaining letters.
Tiredness and warm afterglow forgotten, Paperclip felt her heart jump back into overdrive as she groped for one of the envelopes and pulled it closer. The hovering sense of doom over the back of her shoulder only grew when she saw that it was basically soaked through. Though she didn’t dare look at the contents, she could already tell that the letters printed on the side she couldn’t see had become a bunch of smeary black scribbles that nopony would be able to read.
“Crud...no, crud what do I...crud!”
What else could she say? She was dead. Well, not literally, but Boss was probably going to be mad. She didn’t even know that she had the ability to literally propel wet stuff across the room, but...apparently that feeling of something leaving her in spurts earlier had been exactly that! A quick sniff and the overwhelming scent of earthy blueberries confirmed her suspicions. Even though she vaguely found it kind of neat that she could do that, the novelty quickly faded as she wondered what she should do. Maybe she should just go tell Boss. Maybe she’d still get paid, but just less, since she messed only those up—the ones tucked off to the right seemed to be fine other than a drop or two. Still, having to walk up and say ‘hey, I got a little too wet with the wetting stick and got the things wet’ was...scary. She didn’t know if she could do it.
But like a lightning bolt, she suddenly remembered one other thing Boss had said before he’d told her to stop asking all the questions she’d had:
“Don’t worry about getting them too wet or nothing. These ponies would much rather get a...wet newsletter than not get one at all. Just make sure they get sealed one way or another.”
Whew. Her heart rate slowly began settling as she slumped back in the chair, thinking at the last second to swipe the pile off the table as she did. She had more than enough wet stuff to finish these off, even if they were already partially soaked everywhere but the parts that needed to be closed. It was easily doable on autopilot, which she shifted into as she recounted everything.
This job had definitely been an adventure. She was almost sad that like many tasks, she’d never be guaranteed to be doing this again. After all, the Filly Ferriers handed out jobs at random when any filly asked for one. The chances of getting to work for this particular Boss again were slim, and it was a bit sad. Sure, Boss had been a little bit...uptight, but she’d really miss the wetting stick and all the joy it brought her. Boss couldn’t be all bad if he’d let her experience that.
Then again...she could ask Boss where he’d got his and she could maybe save up her Filly Ferriers commissions for one of her own to enjoy in her free time. Yeah, that would be good.
Paperclip smiled. She was still slightly out of breath, wet with blueberry juices and sweaty, her mane messed up, and her wings still anxiously fluttering with leftover bursts of shiver-worthy pleasure. Sure, she’d have to spend a few minutes sitting there recovering, and then spend a lot of time at home in the shower, scrubbing all this stuff off her...but it was worth it.
Speaking of worth it...she had finished pretty quick. She didn’t get any tips for extra-fast service, and for all she knew, this would be her last chance to use a wetting stick for a while. Why couldn’t she just use it again for fun? Boss wouldn’t mind, she was sure. She was already wet and kinda sticky, so getting a bit more wasn’t out of the question. What was the harm?
Paperclip grinned ear-to-ear as she picked the buzzy stick back up, placed it across the chair like she had earlier, and positioned herself for another wild ride.
For the second time that day...things were about to get wet.
