Forever Pucked (Pucked 4)

“What the hell is going on in here?”

“I can’t figure this thing out!” I gesture wildly. “None of us can.”

“Let me fix this.” Charlene swoops in and starts fiddling with buckles, manipulating my boobs into a much less painful position. After less than a minute, all my parts are in the right place and my nipple no longer has tingles from lack of circulation. “Check it out.”

The three of them move out of the way and give me access to the mirror. “Holy shit.”

“Right? You look hot.”

“I don’t know if Alex will like this, though.”

Charlene crosses her arms over her chest and smirks. “Oh, he’ll like it. You should check out your ass.”

“She’s right. Your ass looks great,” Sunny agrees.

“And your boobs, but they always look great,” Lily sighs.

“I can’t even get myself in and out of this. I’m not buying something I could get trapped in!”

I have to admit, I do look pretty damn hot. I just don’t know if this is something I’ll be able to manage alone.

“Just try the rest of the stuff on, and we’ll decide at the end.” Charlene motions to the piles on the chairs.

The girls file out of the dressing room, and I spend the next half hour modeling lingerie. I have to show them every outfit, and then they have a vote. By the time I’m done, I have a larger keep pile than no pile. Half the stuff I’m not convinced I’ll actually wear for Alex, but I’m beyond arguing. We’ve been in this store for two hours. I’m hungry, and we’ve run out of traveler wine.

Usually my max time in a dressing room is twenty minutes. I try stuff on, pick some things I like, and get out. I’m tired from all the snaps and buttons and hooks and buckles. My fingertips hurt.

Before we hit the cash, Charlene stops by the Area 51 section and picks up a bunch of the small butt plugs.

“What are those for, party favors?” I can’t see why anyone would have a use for more than one, unless they were setting up a festive anal toy display.

Charlene ignores me, but jumps ahead of me in line. She dumps her basket of porn paraphernalia on the counter. It’s smut heaven. The cashier rings it up, and they have a serious conversation about the benefits of relaxation lube versus numbing lube.

When it’s my turn, I try to hide the Area 51 toy under the pile of equally embarrassing chainmail lingerie. The cashier is dressed like a pinup girl. Her boobs are pushed way up in a corset, and she has pin-curls. Her lips are the color of Alex’s hockey jersey—and my underwear.

“Oooh, looks like you’re going to have some fun,” she says.

“We’ll see.” I wish she’d move faster and put all the whips-and-chains stuff away before my mom and Daisy find us. I have no idea where they’ve gone.

“This one is so sexy.” Her white teeth sparkle as she holds up the outfit with the most buckles and chains. It also has these cuffs that apparently attach to the hips. Yeah. Like I want my hands restrained when Alex is coming at me with the monster cock.

“On second thought, maybe I won’t—”

“You girls find everything you were looking for?” My mom throws her arm around my shoulder.

I close my eyes. Of course. I hear Daisy’s choked cough behind me. Fuckballs.

“We sure did!” Charlene says. “I’m super excited to try this on at home.” She fingers the lingerie armor, and it clinks ominously. I’m so grateful. I don’t think I’d ever be able to look Daisy in the eye again if she knew it was for me.

“I didn’t know you were into the kink!” my mother practically shouts.

“We all have our secrets, Skye.” Charlene winks.

Daisy pushes between them to get a better look. “Oh…that’s, um, interesting, Charlene.”

“That’s how I like to keep things, Daisy.” Her grin is devious.

“And that’s what this does?” Daisy gestures to the outfit the cashier is wrapping in pink tissue paper. “Keeps things interesting?”

“Sure does.”

Daisy twirls a lock of hair—since it’s no longer held in place with six cans of hairspray—as she considers this. “I can see that.”

I think she and my mother may have gone for drinks, because they’re both glassy-eyed. Or Daisy’s been feeding my mom Robbie’s scooby snacks. Both are realistic possibilities.

When the cashier gets to the end of the whips-and-chains outfits, Charlene says, “The rest of that stuff is hers. That’s what we get for using the same basket.” She tosses a credit card on the counter, but not the one she used to pay for the other stuff. The total is more than two thousand dollars. Which seems insane.

“I’ll give you the money as soon as we’re home.”

“It’s fine,” she whispers dismissively.

“It’s way expensive. You’re not paying for that.”

“I have a special card from Darren.”