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Minty
I’d been insideKnox Supplies & News plenty of times, of course. I’d bought every dildo, butt plug, and sex toy I’d ever owned there. But I’d never been inside during the middle of the day, when it was still light outside, and anyone could see my car out front. Good thing my mama lived and worked in Kingston, forty-five long minutes away, or I’d have been too terrified to park my truck outside in case she drove by.
I wished I’d brought Barry with me as backup. He’d offered, and I’d laughed him off, but now that I was standing outside the gray, square, one-story building, getting ready to see a man about hurting me, I wished I hadn’t.
I didn’t even know what Luke looked like. Probably some thick muscle pig. That was the usual type, wasn’t it?
What did I know, though? I talked a big game, but when it came to sex, although I’d had a lot of it, it was usually in rather conventional ways. Dick in one of my holes until climax was achieved. If I was in the mood for pain—which was all the time lately—I’d get an asshole, bully frat boy to hit, slap, kick, and hate on me, but none of this fancy shit with contracts, and whips, and a professional Dom or whatever. It had never appealed to me before.
I wasn’t sure it appealed to menow.
I put on some extra cherry lip balm, though my lips wereperfectly well-hydrated, and stuck it back in my hip pocket with my keys before straightening my shirt’s pink spaghetti straps and heading into the shop.
The door opened onto the familiar, fluorescent-lit showroom. A middle-aged woman with blonde hair cut into short, punk rock, messy hanks stood behind the counter looking bored, chewing gum, and readingSpinmagazine. Paul Westerberg was on the cover clutching a guitar and wearing glasses. His chunky brown hair wasn’t dissimilar from hers, and I wondered if she knew it. Meanwhile, “Holiday” by Madonna piped in overhead.
The woman glanced up. “Can I help you?” she asked, leaning her elbows onto the counter on either side of the magazine. “Looking for something in particular?”
The rows and rows of dildos, pocket pussies, vibrators, cock rings, porn VHS tapes, and more called out to me. I could walk around like any of that was what I’d come for, maybe even buy a new butt plug—I’d been wanting a bigger one, hadn’t I?—and just never mention this Luke guy at all. Or I could turn around, leave this plastic-scented place, get the hell out of that exposed parking lot, and just pretend none of this had ever been discussed.
“I’m, uh…I’m looking for…” I swallowed hard, and she stood up straight, curious now that I’d started talking.
“S’okay, baby, spit it out,” she said. “I’ve heard it all before. Nothing to stutter over.”
I blushed. “I’m not embarrassed,” I declared. Or at least I wouldn’t have been if I were there for toys, but I must have seemed absurd, red as a beet and denying it.
“I mean, not about that. I’m not here for—” I cleared my throat. She was starting to look concerned. “I’m not here for sex toys. I’m here for Luke.”
“Oooooh.” A knowing expression passed over her features before being quickly tucked away. “He’s in the back. I’ll ring him.”She picked up the phone, pressed a single digit, and ran her eyes over me as she waited. “Yeah, hey. Got a pretty thing out front here to see you.” She laughed. “Uh-huh, prettyandnervous.”
“I’m not,” I said, lifting my chin.
“Says he’s not,” she went on, laughing some more. “All right. Sure.” She hung up. “He’ll be right out. Said you should look around, see if there’s anything here you like.”
Was it a test? Was he going to buy some toy for me and… what? Use it? Today maybe? To see how I handled that sort of thing? Was I supposed to demonstrate submission by doing what the woman behind the counter told me to do? Was I supposed to refuse her and just stand here like an idiot watching her read?
“Okay,” I said, finally, turning from the counter and moving down one of the aisles of massive fake cocks. She didn’t pay attention to me much after that, just glancing up occasionally to ask if I had any questions about a particular model or toy.
I did not. I wasn’t even really looking. Though the extra-large butt plugs were as intriguing as they were terrifying. I wasn’t sure I could ever manage to get something so enormous inside me, though I didn’t hate the idea either.
But I should. I should hate that idea. There was something wrong with me that I wanted pain more than I wanted pleasure these days. I hadn’t always been like this. Once, not very long ago even, I’d been almost past the worst of my self-destructive urges. But now…
Iknewwhat was wrong with me, of course. That fucking diagnosis. It’d thrown every good thing inside me off kilter, and I’d gone spinning back to my old ways of coping. The memories I’d tried so hard to bury surfaced most nights in my sleep, and I woke with sticky sheets and shame that could only be beaten out of me or fucked free.
I was thinking about that shame and staring at the colossal plugwhen I heard his voice for the first time. It was dark, deep, and gave me shivers immediately.
“I see you have enormous ambitions,” Luke said from behind me. “That’s a plug to work up to for sure.”
I swallowed and turned around, greeted first by a chest that wasn’t as broad as I’d expected, and then a slim neck that was almost pretty. I tilted my head up, up, and up and found his calm, narrow face peering down at me. Dark blond hair—or was it light brown?—cut all shaggy around his handsome face. He had to be at least six-foot-one, and I was barely up to his nipples. I was glad I’d worn my prettiest top and a slim-fitting blue jean skirt. At least I knew I looked good as he scanned me from head to toe and back again.
“Are you transsexual?” he asked. “I want to call you by the right terms.”
“Would it matter if I was?” I asked, genuinely curious whether he’d still hurt me if I were a girl and not a boy.
“Not really.”
“Well, I’m not,” I said. “I’m a very pretty boy with the correct priorities in fashion, and that’s all.”
“It’d be okay if that ever changed,” he asserted so calmly that I almost didn’t understand him.
