Mariposa - Part I

Please allow three to five business days for delivery.

The wait was only two days long. Points for reliability.

The unpleasant and unsettling sensation of a churning stomach. Holy shit, this site is the real deal.

There on that bed, was the package. Arrived on time, condition as promised. Completely nondescript. Privacy assured. No attention will be drawn from nosy neighbors and prying postmen.

That part about neighbors and postmen was funny.

This whole thing, really, was funny. And crazy. And stupid.

Damn it, woman! What were you thinking?

The package still lay on the bed, waiting to be opened. Pandora's box, but with a twist. The content of said box was already known. To open or not to open--that was the only question.

It didn't take long to make the decision.

Tore off the brown paper. There was a box inside. A box within a box within a box. Why was it packaged like a Russian nesting doll, one could only guess. This was more than secure. More than private. That thing in there better be explosive.

At last, the great reveal.

It was a pretty little thing. A little comical, given the purpose--but pretty. A fluttering butterfly, to keep you company on these lonely nights. Maybe even in broad daylight. It's very good at staying hidden, or so it claimed. The butterfly lay perfectly still on its back, its neon pink body sending out an unspoken invitation to experience sensations unlike any other. Not fluttering, at least not yet. There were thin bands of elastic on the corners of each of its wings, to hold it in place while it springs into action, possibly while you're stressed out at your cubicle and needed something to help you calm down. Or maybe just craving for a little bit of discreet fun, provided there are sufficient noise levels. Something that one needs to look into. Oh, the things you could do with this baby.

Oh yes, woman. You really are crazy.

The box was accompanied by two more boxes. They didn't say anything about freebies. A little slip of paper was nestled beneath the ribbon that bound the boxes together. A message about said freebie. What a welcome surprise. A pack of batteries for the controls, and a big tube of...personal lubricant.

Personal lubricant? Who the hell came up with that? So uncreative.

Untied the binding ribbon. Opened the boxes. Chucked a pair of batteries into the designated slot. Time to test it.

The butterfly came to life. Fluttering lightly at first--and as the dial was turned, the vibrations escalated into a wild frenzy.

Holy shit. All this is real. Not to mention illegal.

Not that anyone cares anyway. This butterfly now has an owner. Will said owner put it to use?

Probably next time. For now, Little Pink Butterfly would have to be content with sleeping on the top shelf of its owner's closet--batteries out.