Fidget Toy

Chapter 1 - The Purchase

The shop window was deceptively chic, displaying nothing but a single silk ribbon and a sign that read: Modern Play for Modern Minds. Tasha stepped inside, her heels clicking rhythmically against the polished marble. She felt a flutter of hesitation in her chest—this was the "New Kink" boutique everyone in her circle was whispering about. But it was Elena’s thirtieth birthday, and at this point, Elena had enough scented candles to provide emergency lighting for a small country.

"Good afternoon! You look like someone with exquisite taste and a very specific, perhaps slightly naughty, problem," a voice sang out.
The Store Owner, Madame Vesper, emerged from behind a velvet curtain like a magician appearing from a cloud of expensive perfume. She was draped in emerald silk, looking like a woman who knew everyone's secrets and found them all hilarious.

"I... I’ve heard the reviews," Tasha said, clutching her designer clutch like a shield. "It’s my friend's birthday. There are three of us meeting at her place tonight. I want something... different. Something that says 'I love you' but also 'Get a grip on your life.'"
Vesper leaned against the counter, propping her chin on a manicured hand. "Tell me about this birthday girl. What makes her tick? Or, more importantly, what makes her stop ticking?"

"Oh, Elena is lovely," Tasha said, her voice warming. "Brilliant, world-aware, a top-tier architect... but she’s a bit shy. A bit rigid. She lives her life by a blueprint. I want her to loosen up, you know? To just enjoy the tactile nature of existence. Something fun and quirky."

Vesper’s eyes lit up with a conspiratorial spark. She winked. "A dear friend deserves a brilliant toy. I have exactly the thing. We call it the Fidget Series. It’s our top-of-the-line model, optimized for total stress relief and sensory delight. It’s perfect for a lively evening of... umm, let me say exploration."

"The Fidget Series?" Tasha tilted her head. "Is it one of those things with the buttons and the gears? She does love a good mechanical interface."

"Well umm, yes it has all that and much more. Trust me, the interface is divine," Vesper chirped. "Wait right here. I just got a fresh shipment in this morning. High maintenance, but high reward."

Vesper vanished into the back room. Tasha waited, expecting a sleek, matte-black box or perhaps something neon and silicone that vibrated at three different frequencies.
The curtain rustled. Vesper walked out, but her hands were empty. Behind her, however, walked a man who seemed to have been carved out of solid 'Yes.'

He was a masterpiece of a human being: six-foot-two, with a jawline that could cut glass and shoulders so broad they practically required their own zip code. He wore a tailored charcoal suit that clung to his frame in all the right places, and his hair was that perfect, "just-rolled-out-of-bed-but-make-it-fashion&q uot; messy.

Tasha’s mouth fell open. She blinked, then blinked again. "I... I think there’s been a mistake. I asked for a toy. Not a Boy?"
Vesper’s grin turned wicked. She gestured toward him with a flourish. "Tasha, meet Tiger. He’s our premium line. Well-trained, highly responsive, and always on the prowl for a good time. Just look into those eyes—aren't they the perfect shade of 'Happy Birthday'?"

Tiger stepped forward. His eyes weren't just eyes; they were deep, honey-colored whirlpools. Tasha found herself involuntarily leaning in, her gaze wandering from his perfectly knotted tie to the way his biceps strained ever so slightly against the fabric of his jacket. Good grief, she thought, is he even real or is he 3D printed?

He didn't just shake her hand; he took it with the grace of a Renaissance prince and pressed a lingering, warm kiss to her knuckles.

"A pleasure to be of service for the evening," Tiger murmured. His voice was a smooth, vibrations-in-your-chest baritone. "I’m told I’m very good for the nerves."

Tasha felt a giggle bubble up in her throat, her initial shock melting into a delicious, giddy mischief. "A 'Fidget Series,' you said? Does he... does he come with a manual?"
"He’s plug-and-play, darling," Vesper laughed, leaning over the counter. "You can’t keep your hands off them, and they never get tired of the attention. You can poke him, proffer him drinks, or just have him stand there and look expensive. He’s the ultimate distraction for a shy architect."

Tasha’s eyes went wide, her initial shock giving way to a skeptical curiosity. "Vesper, I can’t exactly put a person in a gift bag. He’s... he’s a bit much, isn't he?"
"Nonsense, your friend will thank you for ages. Go on, don’t be shy. Check the build quality for yourself."

Tasha hesitated, then stepped closer. She reached out, wrapping a hand around Tiger’s bicep. Her fingers barely met on the other side. "Good grief," she murmured, feeling the rock-hard density of the muscle. "The frame is certainly impressive. But I don't want him running out of juice halfway through the party."

Tiger didn’t flinch at the touch; he simply offered a calm, steady smile. "I’m built for long-duration engagement, Tasha," he said, his voice a smooth, confident rumble. "I don’t have an 'off' switch until the job is done."
"He’s top-tier in endurance," Vesper added, leaning over the counter. "And don't get me started on his versatility. Whether it’s high-energy entertainment or... deeper, more specialized focus, he’s programmed to adapt."

Tasha hummed, circling him slowly, her eyes raking over his posture like a scout evaluating an athlete.

"Satisfaction is guaranteed regardless of the terrain" Vesper promised. "He’s been conditioned to handle everything from 'icy architect' to 'lively party-goer' with total precision.

Tasha stopped in front of him, scanning him from the top of his messy hair down to his polished shoes. She looked like she was looking for a scratch on a new car.
"And don't you worry about the finer details," Vesper added with a wink and a low chuckle. "He’s got a world-class package, darling, and believe me—he knows exactly how to use it. If you'd like to step into the dressing room for a more... thorough examination, I’m happy to facilitate."

Tasha’s cheeks flushed a light pink, but she laughed, waving a hand dismissively. "No, no. I’ll take the plunge. If he’s even half as good as he looks, Elena’s candles are going to be gathering dust for a long time."
"And yours, by the look of it," Vesper joked, tapping Tasha’s hand. "Shall I ring him up? He’s surprisingly portable."

"Absolutely," Tasha said, her mind already racing toward the look on Elena’s face. "Tiger, dear, can you follow me to the car, or do I need to put you in a carrying case?"
Tiger chuckled—a rich, velvety sound. "I’m very well-behaved in transit, I promise."
As they walked toward the door, Tiger held it open with a wink that could have melted a polar ice cap. Tasha walked past him, purposely brushing her shoulder against his arm just to check if he was as solid as he looked. (He was).

Vesper leaned out over the threshold, waving them off with a naughty cackle.
"Happy fidgeting, Tasha! And wish Elena on my behalf!"

Tasha led Tiger toward her SUV, feeling like she’d just pulled off the heist of the century. "So, Tiger," she said, unlocking the car. "Do you have a 'silent' mode, or should I expect a lot of witty banter on the way to the party?"

"I’m whatever the occasion requires," he said, sliding into the passenger seat and filling the cabin with the scent of sandalwood and pure, unadulterated trouble. "But for you? I can be very talkative."