SteelDonuts: An OC sock journal (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
steeldonuts) wrote2018-10-08 05:30 pm
steeldonuts) wrote2018-10-08 05:30 pm
Always label your merchandice, kids. [NSFW]
In a quiet corner of this particular town's red light district exists a small, rather unassuming shop. In contrast to the loud, gaudy signs and lights of the other establishments on the street, the only thing that marks this building is a quaint hanging wooden sign that reads "Consentacles" accompanied by some purple and black tentacles holding bottles of varying liquids. The inside of the shop is just as unassuming, nothing but rows and rows of potions broken up by what look to be toys and the occasional rack of clothing for sale. It's all softly lit with a pleasant smell of incense.
It isn't until one starts to inspect some of the merchandise that the true nature of the shop is revealed: growth potions, shrinking elixirs, draughts for stamina, animal ears, mermaid tails, you name it. Every sort of fetish one might have that could be realized with some magic drink is there, all neatly labeled and organized with a short description of how it works. It may be a sex shop, but the owner has standards.
Speaking of which, the one responsible for the store can be found near the back behind a counter. A tall, shapely woman with a pale complexion and long, messy dark hair, just one pointed hat short of your stereotypical witch. She seems to be busy with brewing a batch of potions, judging by the large, bubbling cauldron and the open bottles on the counter filled with something or other, presumably waiting to be labeled and put on the shelf.
There's a lot of bottles on that counter, though. Probably more than should be there. Oh well.
It isn't until one starts to inspect some of the merchandise that the true nature of the shop is revealed: growth potions, shrinking elixirs, draughts for stamina, animal ears, mermaid tails, you name it. Every sort of fetish one might have that could be realized with some magic drink is there, all neatly labeled and organized with a short description of how it works. It may be a sex shop, but the owner has standards.
Speaking of which, the one responsible for the store can be found near the back behind a counter. A tall, shapely woman with a pale complexion and long, messy dark hair, just one pointed hat short of your stereotypical witch. She seems to be busy with brewing a batch of potions, judging by the large, bubbling cauldron and the open bottles on the counter filled with something or other, presumably waiting to be labeled and put on the shelf.
There's a lot of bottles on that counter, though. Probably more than should be there. Oh well.