Livestock Furniture Door-to-Door Salesman (Complete)
The furniture, struggling with each step, approached Chairman Kamijo and obediently settled down on all fours. A wooden table rested on its back, and atop it sat a bottle of wine and two glasses.
"I've brought it, Master..."
"Let me have a taste."
Chairman Kamijo picked up a wine glass from the furniture's back as a gesture of thanks, then lightly kicked the dildo embedded in the livestock's lower region with his foot. Even with his casual nudge, the massive dildo slid right in.
"Nnghaaaah."
The livestock blushed and drooled at the humiliating act. It wasn't called furniture for nothing.
She's getting off on something that size? Chairman Kamijo must prefer training with huge cocks as a baseline.
Tokuga, ever the salesman, sipped his wine even in this situation, analyzing Kamijo's tastes. Of course, he didn't forget his flattery.
"What magnificent furniture. To think you'd craft something like this—I never could have imagined it."
"Hoho, hearing that from a specialist like you who deals in furniture? That's high praise indeed. But I have all sorts of pieces beyond this one. Finish your drink and let's take a tour. Lunch will be ready soon, so eat that too before you go."
Tokuga was starting to think the rumors of Kamijo's foul temper might be prejudice. Why else would he treat him this way? And the wine's aroma was exquisite—the finest he'd ever tasted.
"How is it?"
"As expected, such a refined flavor. This must be truly rare wine."
Kamijo drained the rest of his glass and stood.
"Follow me. You too, table—come along."
The table strained to keep the wine bottle from falling off the board above its waist as it followed. Being called just "table" without a name suggested it had committed some grave offense. Otherwise, it wouldn't endure such treatment.
With the table leading the way, Tokuga finally got a good look at it. A chain dangled from its clitoris, stretched mercilessly long. It looked painful just to see, yet the table smiled as if even that felt good.
Kamijo tugged the table's collar with one hand as they walked the hallway. Pussy juice dripped steadily from the table along the corridor.
The first room after the hall was simply furnished. A large tank and a comfortable sofa before it—that was all.
The tank was curtained off, hiding whatever was inside.
"This is my first collection."
Seeing Kamijo's grinning smile, Tokuga instinctively knew something lurked within.
What could it be? Some long-discarded human livestock, maybe.
Tanks didn't have to hold water, after all. No human livestock had ever been made to breathe underwater.
But when the curtain parted, revealing the human livestock inside, it exceeded even Tokuga's expectations.
...Impressive. How did he even make something like this?
A woman hung suspended in the water-filled tank, arms and legs bound. A mask covered her nose and mouth, and a massive dildo was lodged in her lower hole.
"What do you think of my first collection?"
Kamijo asked Tokuga.
"Sadly, it's hard to tell just from looking. Chairman, would you care to introduce this collection?"
"Ah, yes. This livestock is paying the price for failing to repay a debt to me."
"A debt?"
"Indeed. She loved luxury goods. Bought far beyond her means and ended up like this."
"What sort of collection is it?"
"First, do you see what she's swallowing down there?"
Tokuga nodded.
"It squeezes with enough pressure to release air from the mask covering her face."
"Fascinating structure. But what if she just chooses death?"
Kamijo pointed to a paper affixed to the tank's side.
In summary, if she chooses death and can no longer repay the debt, her sister will assume the obligation instead.
"You've taken her family hostage. A common choice."
"Hoho, hostage? Merely collateral."
"Ah, poor choice of words on my part. You're right."
Tokuga glanced subtly at the woman in the tank. Her eyes brimmed with resentment.
Why? Is she sad? Or happy to show her body in that state?
Tokuga made his living off livestock, yet sometimes questioned their nature. But sights like this erased all doubt.
Afterward, Tokuga inspected more of Chairman Kamijo's furniture collection. As expected from a man of immense wealth and unique tastes, he owned many exceptional pieces. But nothing surpassed that first furniture.
What should I sell him?
Nothing in his stock could top it. He could take a custom order, but that meant failing to move inventory—a mark of incompetence.
"So, have you thought of something to sell me?"
"Could you give me a bit more time?"
"Of course. I said eat lunch first anyway—ponder until then."
Kamijo waved dismissively and left. Tokuga retraced his steps, seeking suitable furniture.
Table's already covered.
This one?
The tank still held the woman, struggling and sniffling. Decorative pieces like this didn't need duplicates. Better to consider practical livestock.
The second collection was a livestock dartboard. Throw darts at its body—breasts for 5 points, belly 3, pussy 7, clitoris 10. Blunt pins preserved longevity, but the fear remained, heightened by the blindfold.
He has plenty for hardcore tastes. Only that product comes to mind.
Tokuga recalled his latest mouth-toilet model. Luckily, he had Yukaho, its promo model.
Finally hitting on something sellable, Tokuga smiled and sought out Kamijo.
"Chairman, how about this?"
Tokuga presented a brochure with Yukaho's details—like those made to promote the mouth-toilet line.
"I recognize this face."
"You know Yukaho?"
That could work in his favor. Livestock with prior experience often drew repeat interest.
"Yes, I saw her at an exchange with Shiori by the gate. Wondered where she'd gone—turns out she became furniture."
"Indeed. They say it's the finest recent product. Interested?"
"I'll take a look."
Kamijo flipped through, nodding.
"Mouth toilet that takes up to 25cm, handles piss and shit. Nice."
"Yes, and her lower holes are somewhat trained too. Train her plain if you want natural flavor, or customize as desired."
"Buying this and training max depth myself sounds fun. 35cm would be better, no?"
"Not bad at all. The 25cm limit's just for mass production—after that, do as you please."
"We'll go with it. Price?"
Tokuga handed over the papers. Price hardly mattered to Kamijo; he could buy any livestock.
"Now, lunch before you go."
"Thank you."
Tokuga enjoyed the meal, buoyed by his success. Perhaps Kamijo's stature made even the food exceptional.
"Delicious."
"I'm quite the gourmet."
"I see."
After lunch, Tokuga bid farewell and drove off. As he exited, Shiori at the gate endured agony—not pleasure. Tokuga pitied her briefly, but the deal mattered more—5% commission incoming.
He hoped livestock furniture would proliferate, spawning more buyers.