Chapter 1

Starla

This is my moment. As I turn the sign on Tiger’s Den’s door to “open,” I look around at Main Street and see the other businesses. They range from a bakery and cafe to salons and a bookstore. I plan to visit all of them soon.

I’m looking forward to meeting the neighbors, starting over, and getting to be myself in this town. Part of me still has that little feeling in the pit of my stomach over what happened where I previously lived. Luckily, this isn’t a conservative town, and I don’t live with my orthodox parents anymore.

This will be different. I hope. I begin straightening items on the shelves, arranging oils and lingerie near the front and the more intense items like dildos and toys not in boxes at the back. The private viewing room is set up with big cushions on the floor and a nice sofa. I’m going to be advertising shows for bachelorette parties there.

One door down from the private viewing room is my friend Poppy’s boudoir studio. She’ll be in later with a couple of new clients. I’m so happy to have met her and to give her this space. It’s perfect for promoting healthy sexual exploration.

A young woman comes into the store, my first customer of the day. She looks nervous, but then again, I’m used to patrons like this. She’s about college age and has long blond hair that lands past her trim waist. She’s checking out the shelves with wide eyes.

“Hi, can I help you find something?” She jumps a little. She was so lost in her perusal, I startled her.

“I’m not sure.” She bites her lip a bit. I don’t think she even realizes she’s doing it.

“There’s no need to be worried. The windows are frosted for a reason. No one can see you and you can take all the time you need to explore. There’s no judgment.”

She visibly relaxes.

“It’s just,” she looks around the store, “my mom would kill me if she knew I was in a place like this.”

“Are you over eighteen?”

“I’m twenty.”

“Then it’s really none of her business where you shop, is it?”

She smiles at that. “I’m looking for something to, ya know, take the edge off without resorting to Tinder. Again. Too many bad experiences and I really don’t have time for it.”

“I completely understand, and I think I have the perfect item for you.”

I take her down the shelves to my favorite high-tech vibrator and hand her one in the box. She looks at the display piece and I swear I can see the fear in her eyes.”

“I know, but trust me it’s not as complicated as it seems and you’re gonna thank me when you learn about all the different modes.”

She looks at the box, then the display again. “I’ll take it!”

“Do you want some time in the private viewing room to get to know your new toy?”

“Oh no, it’s okay, I’ll take it home and do that.”

I check her out at the register. “Well, call me if you need any help with it. I mean that.”

“Thank you so much,” she says as I put the box into a discreet, blank looking paper bag and add some tissue paper on top.

As she leaves, I remember why I opened this shop and why I love doing this. That woman is about to be opened up to a whole new realm of pleasuring herself and I made it happen.

I have a few more customers throughout the day, mostly women buying lingerie, and one man looking for personal lubricant. I close up, feeling satisfied with my day, and head to that cafe I’ve been eyeing all afternoon. I need a pick me up.

As I wait for my drink, I notice a group of older women staring at me and I’m instantly uneasy. I know their type. Same haircut and clothing style as my mother. Maybe I didn’t escape the conservatives after all. I try not to look at them but they’re clearly talking about me.

One woman breaks off the group and my stomach tightens when I see she’s headed my way. This can’t be good.

“Hey!” I don’t look at her. “Hey! Aren’t you the owner of that sex shop?” She says “sex shop” like she’s talking about a landfill.

“I recently opened an adult boutique, if that’s what you mean.”

“You know what I mean. My daughter was in there earlier today and she said you sold her a…a...”

“Personal intimate product,” I supply for her.

“That’s a pretty way of putting it. How dare you push that disgusting thing on my baby girl.”

“You mean the twenty-year-old adult who can think for herself?”

The woman gasps like I cursed her out or something. I want to but I also want to hold my own in this town.

“You’re going to regret this.”

“I thought I’d left this kind of thing behind but I guess you people are everywhere.”

“You people?” she sputters.

My order comes up and I grab it, then leave. She’s walking back over to her friends whispering and looking in my direction as I walk out.

I still don’t regret a thing.

The next morning, that same group of women is at my door. They made actual picket signs to walk the sidewalk in front of my shop. I laugh when I open my door and turn the sign around to OPEN. They’re not going to stop me.

The mother who’d confronted me last night is leading the pack, of course. When I come outside to put out my signs, she gets in my face.

“You really think you’re going to be able to stay in business with my friends and I out here every day?”

“You don’t scare me. I’ve dealt with far worse than you.” I put out my signs and go to head back in, but she’s not done.

“You don’t belong here.”

“Says who? You don’t represent the town. I have my permits from the Chamber of Commerce. I’m compliant with all the laws I need to be. You’re not going to take me down because you don’t like what I sell.”

Poppy is approaching the store with someone else in tow. It looks like she has a client. Her short pixie cut flutters as she looks around at the scene in front of Tiger’s Den. She knows this is basically my worst nightmare. We share a look and she leads her client around the back of the building. I hope the protesters don’t deter them from using the studio today.

“I’m still talking to you!” The woman gets in my face again, going redder with every word she screams at me.

“You’ll be talking to a wall in a minute. I don’t have to take this from you.”

I go inside and look up the number for the non-emergency police line. Maybe they can help me with this. The woman isn’t protesting peacefully at all. She’s still out there screaming at the door even though I’m not there.

It’s gonna be a long day.