Island of the Misfit Sex-toys

She then turned to Rudy and asked, "What else ya got?"

"The next one is more of a retail item," Rudy said brightly.

"Go on."

"This one doesn't have a name or anything," Rudy continued.

Clarice interrupted, saying "It's okay Rudy, I got this one."

She switched her attention to Lauren and continued, "Our next item is a truckload of edible panties, eight different flavours, but all with the same minor flaw. It's actually a pretty minor flaw, one small ingredient mistake down at the factory, but you know how the labeling laws are these days... Everything that can be eaten must list their ingredients on the wrapper, or you can't sell it."

"So what was the mistake?"

"They used Potassium Nitrate instead of Sodium Chloride."

"But that's a myth," Manu said.

Clarice answered, "Sure, it's only a myth, but you and I both know that all of the over-the-counter sexual stimulants are basically placebo products, none of them really do anything in particular, but the purchasers are convinced that they work. Packaging is everything in this industry, and our manufacturer had to stamp, "Warning! Contains saltpeter" on each package, so all of them were completely unsalable. No man alive would actually purchase them, and since the market is almost all men, they went out of code."

"Edible panties expire?" chuckled Manu.

"Technically, they are a food product." Rudolph offered sadly.

"Clarice, I have an idea. Stay with me for a minute. When we discussed Reloaded, I don't think I explained his sparring partner at all, Bad Babysitter; she is a bad woman. A very bad woman. She shows up and laughs at him for the girls, she's sort of an Alanis from the hinterlands.

She'd be perfect for this. She's an honest-to-God, God save the Queen do-gooder; I think that I can convince her to stage a 'Slut Walk' protest. Those chicks that take part in those are hot, and we could give the panties out as door prizes; we could make it a joke, "Rape is bad, Insert saltpeter" or something like that. Get them to yell it for the press."

Clarice interrupted, "She can have the whole lot!"

"We'll get back to you on that," promised Lauren, "I'll send her an email and see if she's interested."

"What else do you have, Rudy?"

Rudolph's nose glowed in embarrassment, but he had to answer the question. He reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a Caucasian rubber device with a set of large red lips painted upon it. He held it up, clearly embarrassed to be touching it.

"It's a Pocket Pussy," Manu pointed out. "It's the sex toy of choice for the raincoat crowd. Just jam it..."

"That's enough Manu; I think they get the point."

"Not me, not me, I hate men!" the device screamed in anger.

"Hush Roz, we are trying to find you a home" Clarice calmed.

"I'll snap shut! I swear I will! I won't let any penis near me," she screamed desperately.

Manu and Lauren looked at one another and shared a knowing look, "Perfect," they said as one.

"What?" Clarice pressed.

"I think we have the perfect home for her. I can absolutely guarantee you that there will be no penises anywhere near there." Lauren answered. "She calls herself Bitter Ichor."

"You got that right," Manu laughed, "The other day she pitched a fit when authors wrote F-M-F three-ways into the lesbian category. Evidently the Lesbian category is for clitoral owners only."

"Hush Manu, she's very umm... passionate."

"She's a looney!"

"Stop it Manu; she's just very committed to her point of view."

"There won't be any dicks there?" Roz said hopefully.

"Only the ones that she argues with when she is online, dear," Lauren said soothingly. "And most of those dicks are pretty limp."

Manu laughed openly as he said, "Boy howdy are those dicks ever limp! Spending their days cock-fighting on an internet forum; I doubt if any them can even get..."

"Stop it Manu, those are our customers you are belittling!"

"Yes, my Queen," Manu said grinning.

"Then, to Bitter Ichor she will go; was that all of them, Clarice?"

"No ma'am, we have one toy left. We thought it best to save this one for last; it's a rather large problem." Clarice answered.

Rudy then yelled out, "Hermey, bring it in!"

Hermey, the erstwhile Elven Gynecologist, flashlight firmly attached to his head, appeared, pushing a very large wheeled apparatus before him.

"It looks like a Sybian," Manu pointed out.

"But that is the most sought after sex-toy on the market," Lauren exclaimed. "There is absolutely no way that this toy should be here; why on Earth would this be a misfit? Heck, I may take it home myself!"

"Don't be too hasty, Lauren," Manu cautioned, "I don't recognize this particular model. I have never seen one quite like this. It seems to be mounted oddly, and I have no idea what these accessories actually do."

"Oh, all of this came stock with this one; it was an experimental model," Hermey said, his voice an irritating whine.

"Experimental model?" Lauren replied.

Clarice quickly interrupted Hermey, keeping him from saying anything more. "Yes, evidently this was a prototype. The Sybian business model has always made a ton of money by selling over-priced option packs that drive the final price way up, and they'd been getting some flack over that. So, the corporate team suggested that they put out an all-inclusive model that would be extremely expensive, but would make their other products look cheap by comparison."

Lauren examined the machine a second time before saying, "Well, I see the wheels and the much larger base. Was that the problem? Was it too expensive?"

"No, I think it was the companies they chose to partner with," Clarice answered.

Lauren said, "I don't understand."

"Well, I guess the whole project was pretty expensive, and despite Sybian's market share, they really couldn't afford to expand. So they had to find some partners to sponsor this model."

Hermey bent over the toy momentarily and then said, "See! The name plate says 'sponsored by Harley Davidson and Binford Tools".

Manu mumbled to himself, "Oh Geez, Binford Tools? More power!"

"Harley Davidson?" Lauren asked with a raised eyebrow."

"Evidently their research showed that lots of women, and not a few men too, were really turned on by Harleys. This was intended to be marketed as the unisex biker mama model. Her name is actually Susan, but if you pop the attachment on, then she will answer to Freddie. He...she...umm...they can be whatever you want them to be!"

"So what's the problem?"

"Just watch. Hermey, fire it up!"

Hermey immediately jumped into the saddle and began flicking switches. Pedals popped out of the base and a turnkey was revealed. Hermey turned the key and began trying to kick-start the device. The motor coughed a few times, but refused to start.

"What? You are kidding; I thought these things had electric motors," Lauren said, clearly astonished by what she was seeing.

"Normally yes, but evidently Binford and Harley thought it needed more power." Clarice responded dryly while Hermey continued trying to kick start the world's most expensive dildo.

"He rewired it," Manu mumbled brokenly.

Finally, the motor caught fire and roared to life. Now, the word 'roared' was clearly understating the sheer destructive volume of a Harley Davidson engine fully unencumbered by any sort of exhaust system. The leafy walls of the beachside hut shook from the noise and vibrations coming from Susan... Freddie... whoever.

Smoke poured out from the bottom of the saddle, and even though Hermey had not attached any of the dozens of included attachments before leaping on top of the device, his face was quickly plastered over by a blissful smile. His eyes rolled back into their sockets as he popped a tiny little Elven load into his boy shorts. He slipped into unconsciousness and fell from the saddle as the motor coughed and stalled into silence. He had one final though before blackness took him, "To Hell with gynecology, I'm going to become a small engine mechanic!"

Lauren, seeing the wet blotch on the front of Hermey's pants, said, "Well, it clearly works. It's just too loud."

"And smoky," Manu said coughing.

Lauren looked thoughtful for a moment before saying, "You said this one has a personality. How come it hasn't said anything?"

Clarice looked embarrassed as she said, "We turned the suppressor on. Once she starts talking, she goes on and on, and it's really hard to get her to shut up."

Lauren replied, "Can we turn her on; I need to see what we are dealing with here."

Clarice sighed, but she did as she was asked and turned off the suppressor switch.

And it began...

"Oh thank Gawd that thing is off. Do you know what it is like to have dozens of really good ideas and not be able to voice any of them? I mean, it's like being constipated, or like when George Harrison was in the Beatles and they only let him have one or two songs per album. All those years and no one would listen to his songs, not to mention what his hair looked like. I mean, Oh my God! What a hunk. He had so much to offer... like me. I have writing advice to give, warm coffee to hand out. I'm always here with a kind word. All kinds of stuff, if only you'd let me share all two thousands of my stories with you. Can I recite one now?"

Lauren had been holding up her hand in the universal stop signal for some time when Susan finally ran down.

"What?" the toy asked.

"Shall I call you Susan or Freddie?" Lauren asked.

"Why that's just a vicious rumour," Susan replied heatedly. "I'm a blonde with big 'ol titties, just look at my user picture!"

"So... Susan then?"

"Well that's one of my names."

Sighing, Lauren continued, unwilling to let Susan get started again, "I have an idea for you. Can you shut up long enough for me to explain, or do I have to turn the suppressor on again?"

"I'll shut up, my Queen," Susan simpered.

Lauren glared at the toy, but she continued without pause. "The way I'm seeing it is that you have an expulsive urge that you cannot resist. You've written a literal ton of stories, and you tend to babble incessantly whenever there is anyone around to listen to you. You also maintain sock puppets so that you can talk to yourself when no one else will. You, my dear, have a serious need to be heard, or maybe for a whole lot of counseling for which I'm not trained to provide, so we'll work on listening to you."

"Here's my idea. We'll convert this part of Misfit Island into a party spot for members of the Literotica forums. People from the General Board, and the Playground, and all of the other forums can drink here. We will place you right in the direct centre of everything, and make it so whoever wants to ride you can do it without delay, right here in the open air. I figure that mostly you'll get used by the exhibitionists from the Playground, and since most of those folks are not exactly deep thinkers, they might actually appreciate your stories when you recite them. What do you think?"

"Really?" Susan gasped. "Right out here in the open? Men and women too? They'd use me and cum all over me, and I'd get to recite my stories for them too?"

With a knowing look in her eye, Lauren said, "How would that work out for you?"

Susan began to bubble excitedly about her future, but none of them actually heard what she thought as they took the opportunity to edge away from her and head back to the Hotel.

"So...that was the last of them?" Lauren asked of Clarice.

"Well, other than Pilot. Did you come up with anything for him?"

Lauren replied, "Nothing comes to mind; as nearly as I can tell, he is completely useless. How about we put him on the to-do list for next year while we ask the other authors if they have any suggestions?"

Clarice said excitedly, "That's a great idea; maybe someone will put something constructive in the comments section!"

Lauren and Manu looked at each other and began to laugh...