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Dite's Decadent Delights | Wednesday

Irene had restored the shop to its normal, mundane glory -- neatly shelved aisles of toys, clothes centered, a tidy display of harnesses and leather near the back. Nary a fringed leaf or an out-of-place-but-hilarious egg vibrator to be found.

She herself was situated back by the register with her Kindle, taking advantage not only of the quiet but also of the discretion of an e-reader. Not really her cup of tea, but once she'd heard about the premise of this book -- well, she'd had no choice.

[honestly the cover of that thing is pretty evocative. also I might need to read this book, wtf.]

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She probably won't tell you about her book unless you ask, in which case: that's on you, buddy.

Naturally, Dite's was Ginny's first stop in Fandom.

(You know, after grabbing a croissant with Kara, anyway.)

"Ugh," she said as she came in. "I love that this place is canon."

"Hello there!" Irene was sure she'd heard the woman wrong, since there were no cannons (and certainly no one worth canonizing) in here. But she'd been distracted by minotaur smut, so that made sense. "Welcome to Dite's -- let me know if you'd like help shopping today."

She didn't recognize Ginny, which meant she was likely to be a new teacher or fellow business owner. All the better that she was bold enough to come into the sex store in such early days, then!

Ginny was nothing if not bold (when she was "in character" as her sassy dom persona, anyway). She flicked Irene a broad smirk.

"And you must be Irene," she all but cooed. "You're my favorite. Well, after Margo, of course."

"Honestly, my own ranking goes similarly," Irene replied with a bright grin. "I'm my own favorite, then Margo." Then probably Amaya, but that was all a bit stickier than things with Margo.

It took a second before the fog of flattery lifted, and Irene wondered how this unfamiliar woman knew her name, much less enough about her to have favorites. "Hang on a tick, though -- have we met?"

Ginny sighed. "Not outside my dreams," she said, then offered her hand -- palm down, as though for a kiss. "Virginia, though most people call me Ginny -- when they don't call me 'Mistress'." No one called her "Mistress". "I'm one of the contest winners."

Because of course everyone here knew about the contest, right?

Irene took the offered hand, but didn't kiss it, instead opting for a delicate little squeeze of Ginny's fingers that, perhaps, promised more? You know, if you wanted to read a promise into it, anyway.

She, naturally, knew fuck-all about any contest, but smiled graciously anyway. "I hope you don't mind if I stick with Ginny," she replied, firing off a wink. "For the time being, anyway."

Irene, generally speaking, did not refer to other people as Mistress -- but she could get down with flirting with a fellow professional, if that was what Ginny was getting at.

Edited 2022-04-27 16:17 (UTC)

There was literally nothing professional about Ginny. But she loved to pretend.

"Well, for now, anyway," Ginny agreed. "Now . . . what's your favorite thing in this store?"

"Well, that's a rather broad question," Irene acknowledged, but she still thought about it. "Given that my own appetites aren't going to line up with everyone's, and not everything can be used with every partner...."

She crossed over to select a thin, bendy riding crop. "I think I'd have to go with a classic crop. Though that does leave solo play on the table for the most part."

Let's be real, though: riding crops had been a favorite of Irene's long before she ever even dreamed she might be the proprietress of a sex shop one day.

"Ooo, yes," Ginny *ahem* gushed. "Crops are excellent. A prop, a tool, an accessory. . . ." Her eyes went a little soft focused. "I can just picture it, the whumpee bound on his knees, making the most adorable little whimpers as you run it down his spine. . . ."

"I don't know if I know that term," Irene noted, blinking a little and considering offering Ginny a moment to herself if that soft focus persisted. "'Whumpee'?"

She'd been out of the circuit for -- well, just a couple years or so in her own time, but it was more like a decade when you considered the actual passage of real-world time. Maybe there was new vocabulary she hadn't discovered, somehow?

Ginny laughed happily, as though Irene made a fantastic joke. "Right, of course you don't. It's an OOC term, not an IC one."

She pronounced those "ook" and "ick". Because that would make it so much clearer.

"You'll have to forgive me, Ginny," Irene said apologetically, letting her confusion show. "I'm afraid I don't know the difference between, erm, 'ook' and 'ick.'"

God, she was getting old, wasn't she? This sounded like new slang. Did kids still say things were 'lit'? Everything was thrown into question, suddenly.

"You are so IC!" Ginny said with a delighted laugh. "I love it. Never change."

"Thank you," Irene replied, deciding that was intended to be a compliment and that she would be frantically hitting Urban Dictionary as soon as she could do so discreetly. "I don't plan to do much changing, so that's a comfort!"

"Good," Ginny said firmly. "The rest of the island has totally lost its edge, if you ask me."

Literally no one had, Gin.

"Were you here before, then?" Irene asked, latching onto that. "I agree a bit -- marriages and children have sprung up in the apparent years I was absent. There really used to be quite a lot more sex."

Last time she'd been here for sex pollen, there had been an orgy, after all.

"Not physically," Ginny said. "And right?! I was really hoping you'd spice things up when you came back, especially with Eliot and Margo around, but I swear it's like the writers don't even know what to do with those two."

It was still so wild being here, and okay, now that she was here, Megan realized she'd had some details wrong. Oops!

"Hello," she said primly, because she was talking to Irene and felt she should be like, proper. "I'm an author doing something research."

"Oh, my." Irene widened her eyes, suitably impressed.

This was a pretty strange day, already. Another unfamiliar woman. Where were they all coming from? How had Irene not hit on either of these two before now?

"What sort of research?" she asked, arching a brow. "I'd love to help if I can."

"Perfect!" Megan flipped her hair, not trying to look too excited, but like, this was legit. "So if you were a Chosen One with abandonment issues who was finally ready to open your heart and your body to the only person who's ever really understood you, what kind of sex toys would you use?"

What in the everloving hell.

"I'm going to need a little more information as far as the sexes of the parties involved," Irene decided, schooling her features carefully into a mask of curiosity rather than the confusion that the question actually inspired. "And is this a romantic story? Or erotica?"

There was actually a difference, as she had been learning firsthand this morning with her minotaur/woman romance novel.

"It's an adventure story with erotic romance elements," Megan made up. This novel was still mostly PWP. "And it's guy/girl right now but we're going to get into threesome action at some point."

"Probably a vibrator, then," Irene recommended, really considering her options here. "Because it would conceivably be a toy that the woman uses on her own, but then feels comfortable enough to share with her male partner, who can then use it on her."

And then whoever entered the threesome would be able to play with it, too!

"And if she is the Chosen One with abandonment issues, then it would make sense that she's used to doing things on her own, and it would really draw a line under the intimacy of opening her heart and her bed to her partner. Plus, thirty-six percent of women need external stimulation to orgasm, so it would be realistic and portray the gentleman in question as sensitive to her needs."

"Isn't just a vibrator, like, boring?" Megan asked. "What are your thoughts on cock rings?"

"They're potentially hazardous and not for the uninitiated," Irene replied dryly, smiling and arching a brow. "But with a spot of lube -- everyone always leaves out lube in stories, and those poor fictional boyos -- and proper application, then your heroes will be able to enjoy each other for even longer. Maybe not for their first encounter, though?"

Mostly because this was supposedly romance versus erotica. An erotic novel would probably open with cock rings.

"Okay, so not for the first time, but definitely for the threesome," Megan decided.

"For the threesome, absolutely," Irene agreed with a firm nod. "Probably some kind of anal training, too, if you're going for a double penetration situation in that threesome. Beads or a plug would likely flow the best alongside the foreplay and penetrative vaginal sex, unless that's something you want to really focus on."

She still wasn't clear on whether this was going to be an MFM threesome, or a FMF one, or something across the binary -- but her advice applied all the same!

"Oh, okay." Maybe this was starting to go over her head a little Abd she didn't want to say that. "When do you think would be the best time to enchant the toys?"

"All right, important point of clarification." Irene held up a hand, because this was, apparently, something of a hard limit for her. "Are they going to be enchanted to be sentient? Like the teapot in the princess film?"

Because the answer to that was, 'God, never, those poor beads.'

"Ew, god no. They'd just be imbued with like, qualities that get transferred to the parties. Like cottage, and healing, and having really good sex."

"I knew someone once who had tea that could do that," Irene commented lightly. "Should've thought to ask if I could try coating a dildo in it or something."

The list of missed opportunities borne out of Hatter's departure continued to grow.

"I think the best time to enchant them," she added, again giving this actual thought, "would be after a discussion of how they'll be enchanted. You want everyone to be on the same page as far as being bewitched, right?"

Unless she didn't?

"Eh," Megan shrugged.

"A little fictional non-con never hurt anyone," Irene agreed (agreed?) with a sage nod.

"It just ruins the flow," Megan complained. "My readers would much rather get to the magical boning."

Maybe you just want to buy a butt plug in peace. Who could blame you.

There's apparently a book in this series with a spider centaur as the male hero. Amazing.

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Dite's Decadent Delights | Wednesday

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