Authors Note: This series of short stories are intended to be episodic and thus can be read alone. Any feedback, criticisms or improvements are always welcome. The author also invites reader suggestions about what they would like to see Xanthe do next.
It had been a long tiring day at the office and Xanthe’s mind had wandered to her plans for the weekend. She was strolling through the city on her evening trip to the subway for her journey home when she saw it. She stopped in her tracks to take a second look which only confirmed her first impression.
A bright neon sign with a flickering leg moving back and forth in a kicking motion had caught her eye. She tried hard to read the accompanying letters, but from a distance of nearly a block and a half it was unsurprising that she could not make them out. However, two words did stand out to her, ‘sex shop.’
Xanthe had not been to a sex shop in a long time, instead preferring the convenience of ordering her toys and supplies over the internet. It was with that thought that she broke away from her daily routine and headed in the opposite direction, ducking through traffic as she headed towards the dilapidated neon sign.
When she arrived she was greeted by a dark dirty looking exterior. The shop was squeezed between an alternative music store populated by grossly over pierced teenagers and a struggling Persian rug store. The decrepit building they shared looked out of place amongst the tall sleek high rise offices.
Xanthe looked up and down the street in a cautious manner. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed about being seen in front of a sex shop or being seen walking into one, more a consideration to her employer who implored his staff members to lead respectable lives, less it hurt business.
All the store windows were blacked out or painted over in advertising and the doorway which snaked back around in an L-shape was poorly lit. Still Xanthe could not bring herself to leave, she felt slightly excited about her little unexpected discovery.
Despite being downtown and close to the central business district, the shop was completely empty. Xanthe shrugged off the lack of customers, it was a weekday after all, and most people were busy rushing home on the subway, not thinking about dildos, vibrators, studded leather or whips.
The interior of the shop was reasonably well set out, large shelves all around the walls and five foot displays forming aisles throughout the single showroom. Xanthe noticed a woman at the back of the store, leaning on a counter disinterested with her customer’s presence and stoically reading what looked a magazine. Xanthe began to look through the nearest aisle noticing a huge selection of pornographic magazines and videos. She had enough of those at home, what she wanted were some new toys.
As Xanthe approached the end of the aisle she came within earshot of the store keeper who remained totally unmoved. Xanthe looked up to offer her a courteous greeting, but the woman just remained impassive offering no acknowledgement to her customer.
Xanthe turned up the next aisle and stopped to look through some racks of kinky lingerie, all the time eyeing the woman at the counter. She would have been in her mid-thirties at the most, maybe early thirties. From what Xanthe could see she had a reasonable figure, not petite by any stretch of the imagination, but not particularly plump either. Her bust hung alluringly as she leaned on the counter.
Xanthe knew that she was eyeing the woman in a provocative way. It was almost an instinctual thing with her. She could feel her interest begin to peek, already excited about her little discovery, now looking at a range of sex aids, and the fact that she was alone with the shop keeper. Xanthe retrieved a sexy looking black PVC cat-suit with its breasts, rear and crotch cut out. She flicked over the price tag and was shocked by its cost.
The woman behind the counter looked up at Xanthe as she held the cat-suit aloft, trying to maximize the poor lighting. “There are change rooms just over there in the corner,” announced the shop keeper pointing down along the back wall from the counter. “I also have to remind you to leave your underwear on when you are trying on any of the items,” said the disinterested woman before pausing, “for hygiene reasons.”
Xanthe smiled back at her and gave her a cursory nod as she continued to walk back up the aisle, carrying the PVC cat-suit. While she put on a friendly façade Xanthe was unimpressed with the woman’s rudeness and lack of professionalism. The way she had told her to keep her underwear on sounded like a mother scolding an insolent child.
Xanthe finally arrived at the final aisle along the far wall, thus far finding only the cat-suit and some flavored lubricant that she really wanted. That was until she saw what adorned the shelves before her. Her eyes widened as she took in all the dildos and vibrators of every color, shape and size imaginable. It was an impressive selection which Xanthe began to rummage through the different racks examining every toy she could lay her hands on.
There were so many sex toys to choose from that Xanthe had become detached from the outside world, frantically digging through the piles. She noticed a shadow cast itself across the box she was trying to read, she snapped to attention and looked towards its source.
The shop keeper had left her station behind the counter and decided to show some belated interest in her one and only customer. Or so Xanthe thought as she turned to face the woman who stood ominously next to her.
“You can’t take those into the change rooms,” said the woman pointing to the boxed vibrator Xanthe held. “Hygiene reasons you see.” Again the woman displayed no interest or friendliness in her delivery. It was almost like she wanted Xanthe to leave. Xanthe placed the vibrator back on the shelf and motioned towards the woman that she would like to try on the cat-suit. The shop keeper reminded her again that she was to leave her underwear on when trying on the car-suit. She ushered Xanthe to the corner change room.
Xanthe closed the full length door and looked around her tight confines. It wasn’t a change room, but more a common stall the size of a cupboard with a mirror, a bench and a couple of hooks on the back of the door.
Xanthe examined the cat-suit, a real find. The cost concerned her but it was so sexy she knew she just had to have it. Inside she was still irritated about the way the woman had treated her, she could hear her castigating voice repeat itself in her mind as she treated her like an imbecile.
As if to goad Xanthe even further a cheap sign hanging lopsided on the back of the door conveyed management’s message about hygiene and the use of products in the change room. That was it thought Xanthe, she could not stand that nagging voice in her head any longer and when she got mad she always felt strangely aroused. A dirty thought came to her mind as she hung up the cat-suit and slipped her heeled shoes off, kicking them under the bench.
