no-fun

Tits are your trigger

Tits are my trigger...

You'll drop too, right Casey?

"And you're absolutely certain that this isn't the costume you ordered?" asked the customer service rep.

She stared at herself in the mirror. She had been so angry about it, so very confident in her righteous indignation, when she called to complain. But something had changed over the last hour. Or had it been two?

"I... I don't think so. No, I ordered... uh... a ghost costume, I think. I'm pretty sure."

"That's a pity," he said. "Because you look very hot in that one."

She blushed, still unsure how they had convinced her to switch to a video call. And shouldn't it have been enough to just see the ridiculous thing in its box?

"Uh... That's nice of you but I don't... I'm not really..."

"However, I'm afraid I can't offer you a refund if you're only pretty sure there's been a mistake. Why don't I put you on hold again so you can think about it some more?"

Before she could respond, the music began again. The strange, blissful music she'd heard so many times that afternoon, over and over. The beautiful noise that hid the whispers as they slipped into her mind, growing louder and louder each time.

The whispers told her that she had ordered exactly this costume. They said it was perfect for a slut like her. That she loved how it showed off her body and that she would happily wear it to whatever party she was invited to.

Do you love what you're seeing?

repeat after me