Strangers In Romance

Chapter 4: Life on the other Side

A few days ago

"Via Sinclair? Is this right?" The guy from the counter shouted my name. "This order is for a woman named Via Sinclair. Miss Sinclair, your vibrator has arrived."

I knew that coming to a an actual shop for buying sex goods was not a good idea, but did he have to say that over the intercom?

Mortified, I hurried to the counter where the attendant had read my name. This was supposed to be a pick-up order so I could browse the littlest items in the store right after. The measurements online were sometimes wrong, so I had to see things in person. But dang it, the attendant was foul for mentioning my full name.

I smiled at the man nonetheless when I reached him. Yes, I know. I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it.

"E-Excuse me. . ."

"Are you Via?"

"Y-Yes."

He measured me with a look. Clicking his tongue at the hair over my face that occluded most of his view, he pushed the paper bag to me, mentioning, "This is your order."

I checked the package. It was wrong. "E-err, Sir?"

"Yes? Any problems?"

I pointed to the description. "I didn't want this kind of vibrator. I-I wanted the tube one?"

"This is the only one we have."

"But the internet description—"

"Just go to another shop."

My teeth were amply gritted by the time I left that place. Stupid shop. Stupid penis-looking vibrator. Stupid me for coming there.

I happened upon another shop's window pane and couldn't help but look at myself through the glass. My hair was red, supposed to be bouncy, but I managed to make it limp. My eyes were blue, yet they weren't the ocean. They were dead. And my lips that were supposed to be pouty were in a perfect foolish grimace. Why was I like this? Why was I such a loser? Why couldn't I stand up for myself?

My cellphone vibrated for the first time today. Hands shaking, I checked the message, but it was a spam.

Why isn't she messaging me?

I refreshed the screen. Still nothing. Maybe Eloise was busy.

I thought about her as I walked the streets. This woman, Eloise, was someone I met a year ago over a website. Strange, I know. I shouldn't have contacted first. It made me only sound like a serial killer. But Eloise gave her thoughts once in a group chat. Only once, mind you, and I was curious. She sounded familiar, even in chat. So I contacted her. She contacted me back.

I found myself liking her.

She was exactly the type that I was going for: submissive. It was funny when you think about it, in real life I came off like that, but I wanted to be something else.

There was a spring in my steps as I walked further, remembering my conversations with Eloise. She was always afraid in chat, hesitant, thought I knew that there was a spark there. Somewhere in Eloise's system was a lioness needing to be tamed, and I wanted, not to be the circus' lion tamer, but something more. Something I wasn't in real life. A real guide to her, sans the circus.

I entered the other shop that the guy from the one I left had recommended. This had a more low-key aura. Exactly my place. Quickly, I perused the shelves they had. Eloise had told me that she was a virgin. I was too, though I never told her that.

What would she think of her guide if I told her I was inexperienced in sex? She'd be horrified.

No, a Mistress like I wanted to be should be a shining light. An example. My thoughts were taken back to the shelves. What would fit Eloise? What would make her satisfied once I fucked her?