The Toy Shop

~Nariya Patel~ 

What are the odds of encountering challenges as profound as those I've faced—finding myself not only in life-threatening situations but also grappling with a substantial crush on my supposed guardian? To add to the complexity, it's evident that he harbors emerging feelings for me as well. Despite the myriad challenges I face, my cognitive faculties seem determined to cast aside life's complications, honing in solely on orchestrating his confession. I find myself questioning the nature of this experience—whether it's a coping mechanism, the whims of a teenager's thoughts, or merely a desperate plea from my heart for a semblance of normalcy and newfound happiness. Psychologically speaking, few things rival the joy derived from love, leaving me to ponder the intricate layers of my emotions.

As I soften my gaze, fixed on the man before me, I find my attention diverted from the intricate dance of his fingers on the keyboard. Instead, my focus is drawn to the pronounced veins coursing through his hands, the sharp angles of his brows furrowing as he delves into the screen, and the uneven rhythm of his breathing, suggesting a touch of frustration. "Enough," I scold myself, redirecting my gaze downward to immerse myself in the details of the St. Elmo tourist locations leaflet. I was not going to lie to myself but I was horny, and oh come on we are all adults here and I needed my relife, maybe in the form of those strong arms strangling my hips into high thrusts. My heart jitters at the thought and my thighs feel the urge, compelling urge.

"Nari," his voice resonates, warm and enticing. No, stop. Focus on his voice—Alexie's deep, masculine tones that weave me into euphoric fantasies. "Are you alright?" I sense his gaze on me, and a tiny, unbidden whisper escapes from the depths of my throat, "the back of my throat."

"The back of your what?" he inquires, leaning further into his seat, his shouldersflexing, sends current through my body. Panicking, I stumble over my words, the confined space amplifying my embarrassment. "The back of my throat feels dry. I think I'll go rest now, Alex."

His eyes shift outside, the darkness of the night enveloping everything. "Sure, and you have an early shift tomorrow. Goodnight. I'll join you later."

I yelp in surprise, my erratic train of thought spiraling. "Join me later?" a small voice inquires.

His focus pivots back to me, his gaze narrowing with suspicion. "Yes, I sleep in the next room."

"Haha, yeah…goodnight" I hurriedly rush out dashing straight for my room.

This erratic behavior must cease, even accounting for the hormonal fluctuations during this stage of my cycle; the urges are relentless. My desires blaze through my skin, an insatiable fire fueled by solitary pleasures. Despite attempting to rein in these impulses, ever since the notion crept into my mind that my upright guardian might harbor interests beyond our established boundaries, I find myself spiraling out of control. This has manifested in foolish behavior whenever we share a meal, during car rides, or even when working on the cypher. I become excessively jittery around him, especially when engaged in conversation, and doubly so when the subject shifts to our "situationship." My nerves teeter on the edge, fueled by an inexplicable fear that he might instruct me to cease, reject me, and render my vivid fantasies as foolish, leaving me feeling unwanted and unhinged. The looming possibility of abandonment or my own instinct to flee persistently haunts me, a recurring theme threatening to pull me back into a cycle of self-disposal like a discarded, broken doll.

The next day proves to be even more challenging as I grapple with my commitment to resist succumbing to urges, resisting the pull like a sinning temptress. The internal battle leaves me with a splitting headache and a noticeably sour disposition—hardly ideal for someone working in the hospitality sector.

A gentle touch interrupts my troubled thoughts, and I'm met with a familiar smile—Rosela. "What's the matter?" she asks with a comforting tone, prompting me to sort through my thoughts.

Sighing, I confide in her. "I'm facing some issues, and honestly, I don't know who to talk to about it." It's the truth; I can't share this with Alexie, the source of my turmoil. While Mao is trustworthy, she's too young and innocent for these matters. Recently, a bond has formed with Rosela, enough for me to share personal concerns, especially given her similar age and more extensive dating experience.

"Hmm," she muses. "Is it related to your daddy bodyguard?"

My eyes shoot up in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Hehe," the girl emits a secretive snicker, balancing her head on her palms. "I've had enough heartaches to recognize that sigh escaping your lips, Nari." Her demeanor shifts to seriousness as she takes my hand, offering consolation. "Don't worry; I won't breathe a word of this to anyone, not even Esther. You can trust me on that. But if you need advice and help, I'm here for you," she sighs, guilt flickering in her eyes as she looks away. "I've made my fair share of mistakes in life because I lacked the right kind of guidance, and I would hate for someone so close to me to go through that while I sit idly by."

The sincerity behind her words convinced me of her genuine intent to help. I shared with her, in broad strokes, the complexities of the interactions between Alexie and me. Naturally, I omitted the underworld intricacies; I had no desire to entangle an innocent outsider in potentially life-threatening situations due to my own choices.

As I finished recounting my predicament, the girl fell into a thoughtful silence, pondering matters beyond my comprehension. Then, with a sudden burst of excitement, she exclaimed, "I think I have a solution for your troubles! How about, after the shift, you come with me to the store to get some things. Bring cash and tell your Mr. Bodyguard to pick you up from the bus stand around 3:30!"

Perplexed, I simply replied, "Okay," and promptly texted Alexie about the change in plans.

"Shopping today with Rosela, pick me up from the bus station at 3:30," I swiftly typed the message and sent it off. A confirming ding echoed, and I slid my phone back into place, feeling a renewed sense of enthusiasm for the upcoming shift. Whatever Rosela had in mind had injected a spark of excitement into my thoughts.

At the stroke of 1:30, both of our shifts concluded, and with giddy excitement, we changed into our casual attire. Rosela, in a fit of overhyped secrecy, refused to divulge our destination despite my persistent pleas. Boarding the number 9 bus, we disembarked at the 350th gate, which opened to the farmers' market adjacent to the Aray Shopping complex.

A sense of relief washed over me as I perused the array of fresh produce on display. The winter sun cast a perfect glow, and the crisp scent of the surroundings heightened the experience. Navigating through the vibrant stalls, I purchased ingredients and fruits for dinner, while Rosela indulged in some vintage jewelry from a stall.

Beaming, I inspected my purchases while Rosela handled the payment. Once done, she linked her arm with mine and guided me towards the shopping complex, stating, "Oh, Nari darling, we're not here for this!"

Initially puzzled, as the complex appeared long abandoned with only a few open shops, I trusted her instincts and followed along. Confirming my suspicions, most of the shutters were firmly closed, adorned with posters and graffiti. Despite my trust in Rosela, this place was starkly different from the cheerful, sunlit market we had just left. In fact, it presented a stark contrast—a dimly lit space with only a few dingy bulbs guiding our path.

"Rosela," I murmured, my brows furrowing with uncertainty. Alexie's warnings about trusting people easily echoed in my ears, memories of past betrayals racing through my mind. I couldn't shake the nagging thought: was Rosela truly a friend, or a disguised nemesis leading me towards my demise?

However, a single glance at the excitement on her face assured me that malice was far from her intentions. Yet, the mischief twinkling in her eyes as we stood before a flashy store with a neon sign boldly proclaiming "The Toy Shop" raised a new wave of apprehension within me. I gulped, attempting to peer inside, but the dark-coated glass of the display window obscured my view. Despite the uncertainty, my instincts warned me that this was not a store for children's playthings.

The dilemma in my mind grew clearer as Rosela beckoned me to enter the adult playland. A flush rose through my neck as my eyes widened, taking in the provocative items on display.

Indeed, it became evident that this was an establishment tailored for adults, catering to their intimate needs. It was an adult sex shop. I found myself at a loss, unsure where to direct my gaze, as every corner revealed a plethora of explicit items. In an attempt to divert my eyes, I glanced downward, only to be greeted by the sight of phallic-shaped bananas on provocative titles, instantly regretting my choice.

I whirled around in alarm, panic evident in my eyes as I called out to my friend, "Rosela!"

The girl chuckled, shaking her head, "Yeah, that's why I didn't disclose the location. You asked for a solution to your problem, right?" I nodded slowly. "Well, this is the solution. Until your Mr. Bodyguard can muster the courage to come clean with his feelings, you've got to take care of them in your own manner!"

"Mr. Bodyguard?" A silky voice interrupted, startling me. I turned to the side, finding a confident and beautiful woman standing behind the counter. "Who is this pretty lady you've brought today, Rose?"

"This is my friend and coworker from the Lingua, Nariya," Rosela replied. "And this is the owner of this hidden gem, Jinnay."

"Hello," I offered a meek greeting to the owner.

"Hello and welcome. Feel free to look around. Just remember, we don't allow minors to purchase, but you're a friend. Only cash is allowed, with no returns or refunds permitted!" She winked, then disappeared behind the corner once again.

Still in a daze, I let out a yelp as Rosela took my hand and guided me through the shop. "Here is the lingerie section," she whispered almost into my ear. "Although," she added, "I think these might be too racy for you." True enough, the items on display barely covered anything, just a collection of strings attached to each other or lace so thin it would rip with the slightest touch.

As I continued to look around, my eyes fell upon a refrigerator in one section. Curiously, I inquired about its purpose. "Oh, those are candies that people wear," Rosela explained with a wink. "You know, the partner eats it off." Her teasing expression only deepened the flush on my face as the realization settled into my brain.

The next aisle revealed a stack of magazines on display. Rosela didn't need to explain their content; the explicit cover images featuring well-shaped women in provocative poses spoke for themselves. Not wanting to linger, my eyes quickly moved past them. Rosela handed me a book as we hurriedly moved through the section. "I think you should get it, especially because it'll be helpful for your heritage," she winked. Glancing at the title, I shook my head, realizing it was the "Kamasutra."

The following rows were dedicated to DVDs and CDs, the titles and covers of which I didn't need to see to understand that they were likely R-rated films. A noticeable layer of dust coated them, indicating they had been in the shadows of the shelves for quite some time.

As Rosela led the way, she came to a standstill at the start of the next aisle, announcing, "Alright, this is what we came for!" Joining her, I finally understood what she had meant earlier.

After completing our shopping spree, Rosela and I took the 15-number bus back to our destination, parting ways once we arrived. Exactly at 3:30, Alexie's car pulled up in front of me, and I slid inside, securing my bag on my knees.

"Did you have fun?" he inquired, his eyes focused on the road.

The familiar jitters returned, causing my nerves to rise in goosebumps. Mechanically, I repeated what Rosela had coached me to say, "Yeah, we went to the farmers market, and I got ingredients for dinner."

"Nice, I see you're becoming good friends with Rosela?"

"Yes, she's a good girl, but I know what you'll say. Don't worry, I'll be careful."

"Hmm," he nodded, glancing at me before continuing to drive. Once again, I clutched my bag, fearful that somehow the true contents hidden beneath the fresh produce might spill out before I reached the sanctuary of my room. While it wasn't something sinister, the reason for purchasing that particular product was embarrassing in itself.

Fortunately, no incident occurred, and I safely stowed away the product in the secure folds of my wardrobe. Sighing with relief, I went to assist in making dinner, acknowledging that this particular acquisition would only be useful later in the evening. As night fell, casting its protective cloak over the sky, and I found myself securely within the confines of my room, I made my way to the wardrobe. My steps were soft on the carpet, as if the slightest sound could awaken the entire household. Gulping, I retrieved the package, placing the cardboard box on the mattress. With a sense of anticipation, I proceeded to unbox the product, taking my time with slow and meticulous movements, my heart pounding in my chest.

Despite my lingering reservations about the idea, the irresistible urge tempted me to the point of madness. Tonight, even the simple action of him chewing his food, the sharp contours of his jaws flexing, had me thoroughly intrigued. Perhaps Rosela was onto something; maybe I did need help, and that help could very well come in the form of a small, egg-shaped, orange vibrator.

As I unpacked the components, I noticed the box contained four items: the egg itself, a remote controller, the batteries for the main components, and an instruction pamphlet. Picking up the tiny paper folding, I began reading through the instructions. To my dismay, they weren't particularly helpful for the actual use but focused more on the maintenance procedure of the product. Nevertheless, the specifics of how to use it for my needs were left entirely up to me. Following the provided instructions, I inserted the AAA-size batteries into the egg and button cells into the remote, then pressed the ON button simultaneously.

Startled, I dropped the egg onto the soft mattress as vibrations surged through it in sudden waves. I gulped, realizing that the remote had two additional buttons—apparently for varying vibrations and speed.

In the end, I chickened out, shaking my head in disbelief at my own audacity. I carefully placed the contents back in the box, determined to return this purchase first thing tomorrow. Hoping that Jinnay, being an acquaintance of Rosela, would take it back since it was unused—after all, it did cost me a good chunk of my cash savings. "Only the best," Jinnay had winked at me during the checkout, leaving me nervously standing there.

Returning to the secret fold in my wardrobe, I stowed the package away once again and climbed into bed, putting the evening's events behind me. Sleep beckoned, and I allowed myself to succumb to its embrace, hopeful that tomorrow would bring a more ordinary day.

How wrong I was, for sleep proved elusive, short and steamy dreams preventing me from slipping into a deep slumber. I twisted and turned, wrestling with the restless thoughts that refused to let me be. The urge returned with a vengeance, my legs and core begging for attention, a need that had lingered since yesterday and intensified with each passing moment. Jerking and rubbing urgently against the pillow offered some relief, but satisfaction remained elusive.

Huffing in frustration, my feet led me towards the wardrobe, my hands hastily tearing open the place where I had hidden the package. Impulsively, I clasped onto the device, its smooth surface fitting perfectly in my palms, along with the remote.

Hastily, I retreated to my bed, concealing my secrets under the cover of the blanket. Turning on the device this time felt less intimidating and much more exciting. I gradually adjusted the vibrations, directing them towards my core. The initial jolt transformed into a cry of pleasure, sudden yet enveloping my insides in a wave of happiness. The remote, forgotten in some distant corner of the bed, held no significance as I remained blissfully ignorant of the optimal method to wield the powerful device in my hands.

"Alexie," I gasped, my mind conjuring vivid images of him, his large hands teasing my hardened nipples with his cool touch. "Alexie," I dipped the end of the egg into my core, yet something felt amiss. "Alexie," I moaned again, my frustration growing as I yearned for a release, not just a quick one, but the euphoria of a lifetime that would linger on for what felt like an eternity.

My brows furrowed in frustration, the edges of anger tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Alexie!" I cried out louder than my previous whispers as my high came to an abrupt standstill. Unsatisfied to my very core, my eyes fluttered open, and with the slam of the door, he entered. His eyes flashed with frustration, and I quickly shifted away, sinking into my mattress in surprise. However, I had no time to react, as his quick steps hastened him onto me in a swift motion.

"Ale-" but my words were cut off as his lips seized mine, the blanket still providing a thin layer of boundary between us.

His hands slid inside, never making direct contact but gliding along my shivering skin. Despite the heat enveloping me, it felt like my body was covered in goosebumps. Where his fingers glided, I felt a cold sensation, yet once his slender touch withdrew, it left me burning. His exploration reached my lower stomach, hesitating to venture further. However, my insides were melting, and I urged with a soft moan, "Alexie."

That was all it took to reignite his movements. His fingers entwined with mine, guiding my hand towards the small nub of my clitoris, where the vibrating egg nestled beneath my finger. In his other hand, which I noticed later had captured the remote, he adjusted the speed, sending jolts through my body as he slowed it down. "The slower you go, the better the orgasm moonpie," his hot breath lingered next to my ears.

I convulsed in utmost pleasure, but he didn't let me climax for ten long minutes. His fingers guided mine to seek pleasure, taking hold of my other hand from atop the blanket, urging me to give attention to my aroused buds. "Twist them," his hot breath slicked against my hair.

Yet, I craved his direct touch, lost in such a euphoric state that I couldn't discern whether this was reality or a dream. Regardless, I never felt the cold of his skin against mine. As my orgasm drew near, he pushed the head of the egg in and out, in and out, until my toes curled, and I lost my breath in a wave of intense pleasure. My breathing became jagged, my eyesight darkening as my body lost power, and a sense of deep slumber enveloped me.