Did you know? Madness takes many forms. You would do well to familiarize yourself with the styles of Wonderland hatters before you attend your next brunch. Here they are.
0. The truly mad hatter. Has lost awareness that sex is real and has classic teddybear tea parties. Convincing her that this is something she and the human can do will require a perplexing amount of effort and angles of approach. Prepare for when the penny drops.
>Good heavens, what in the world are you talking about, pray tell? ...Of course, we're having intercourse right now. That's what a dialogue is.
1. Prim and proper. Will scorn or sidestep attempts to bring up physical affairs at the dinner table. Shifts in her seat afterwards and gets a little huffy. The topic will be brought up with you later, properly and thoroughly as it deserves, in private.
>I beg your pardon, I haven't a clue what you're talking about, I'm sure. Now then...
2. Perfectly natural. Taxes, tantric positions, hobbies, length of your refractory period, ancient history - all delightful topics for exploration between courses. It seems to all have equal effect on her, but keep her mind on sex and it becomes harder for her to talk about anything else. And a little harder to breathe; you can see her shirt buttons go taut. Tries to sate her deeper curiosities with her imagination while holding you in her gaze. The rest of your evening is decided as dinner concludes and you're called to the drawing room.
>Why, I didn't know you had such an oral fixation. Shall I sup upon his crown later, Eliza? I shall? So happy am I to be in close acquaintance with those of good judgement.
3. The sadistic predator. Secretly spiked the tea. Intentionally manipulates the conversation to keep it coming back to things that are clearly (to her) setting you off while maintaining traditional dining etiquette. As it becomes just about unbearable for you to maintain your composure, a white gloved hand seizes you between thumb and middle finger, like a delicate artifact for her museum, and massages your tender underflesh. You won't be safe from the other side of the table either. She knows exactly how to pressure and stroke with her heels. Queen forbid she's in your lap. You will be expected to weather it. If you fail, who knows whether she'll pretend nothing is happening, or if she will finally brutally mock you for it in front of everyone, of course at the critical moment that you're making a mess of your dress pants.
>And what do you make of the whole situation, Mister Non? ...Mister Non? You're not going to make Eliza repeat herself again, are you?
4. The far-gone hatter. Openly spiked the tea. It's simply not dinner if she's not hilted on you, but if the sitting placements kept you apart, you can expect her going tits-out for you and blowing a torrent of kisses. You will be called for fresh creamer in her tea. There will be demonstrations for the guests, on the table, for what you've been doing in the garden lately. Perhaps the sun is a little too harsh and she needs a fresh coat of you on her cheeks. You'll become fast friends with her friends, since you'll be moaning over their conversation a few feet away. The table still has rules, but none of them involve inhibiting the joy you (could imminently) bring each other, and some of them enforce it.
>DaArling, pl-ehea-se ah~ pa-aAh~ss the ss-sugar to - ah~ - M-miss Eliza-aaAhh~
5. Hatter Prime. Like 4, but never makes a sound or bats an eyelash that is not under strict intentional control.
>Your tea, Miss Eliza.
>shlck