Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
If someone had told me ten years ago that one of the Vaughn brothers would get his nipples and dick pierced on this exact date in time, and if they then asked me to bet on which Vaughn brother it’d be in order to save my life and the life of every person I love in this world, I wouldn’t have hesitated to bet on Max to become the future pin cushion. Of course.
My big brother is the one who fucked his way through his twenties and partied like a rockstar after water polo games in both high school and college, whereas I was the shy, nerdy athlete who came home after swim meets to rest up and get all my schoolwork done, usually because I was excited to volunteer at the animal shelter early the next morning. Max is the one who swaggered his way through a bit of a bad-boy phase in his late teens, while I was the late blooming science nerd with a stutter to overcome—an embarrassment that kept me feeling shy and unsure around girls, long after the actual stammering had been dealt with and eradicated. And yet, here I am, the Vaughn brother who just got three pieces of hardware inserted into his intimate body parts for the entertainment of an online audience who paid to watch? What. The. Fuck.
As usual, I’m wearing a Lone-Ranger-style mask for this livestream. But for the first time ever, my mask is sparkling with purple sequins—a little flair Charlotte thought would emphasize the specialness of today’s marathon of craziness. After sitting up from my final piercing, I turn my masked face to the camera and deadpan, “I hope you’re happy, you fucking sickos.”
All four of us in the room laugh, including me.
“I’m sure they’re very, very happy,” Charlotte says, still chuckling. Her mask is sparkling today, too. But no amount of sequins could ever sparkle as brightly as her sparkling personality. She kisses my cheek, “You didn’t disappoint, Salami. That was gold.” She looks at the camera. “Wasn’t that amazing? Thank you all for your generosity. We can’t thank you enough. Special shout outs to our VIP sickos—Lucille1990, Catfish2000, YankeePants74, and DarlingPsycho123—for leading the charge today with major per-piercing contributions. We’re so grateful to you.”
Man, Charlotte nailed it today. Thanks to her brilliant strategy—asking for a certain amount to be raised per piercing today, and per shenanigan before this—we’re going to reach our goal by midnight, and then some. The only downside of our strategy? Poor Charlotte is now about to get seven piercings—one in each nipple and five between her legs: two in each lip of her pussy and one in her clitoral hood.
When I pulled her aside earlier and told her, sincerely, that she could back out at any time, she smiled broadly and said, “Not on your life, Salami. I’d get a hundred piercings to pay your tuition, if only I had a hundred interesting places on my body people would pay to watch getting pierced.” Good lord. If I didn’t love this woman before that comment, I would have fallen in love with her, right then and there.
“Okay, next victim,” the piercing guy says, motioning to Charlotte. I’m up and standing now, and he’s already gotten his table covered with fresh wax paper for Charlotte.
After making a truly adorable face at the camera, Charlotte sits down and grabs my offered hand. She looks nervous.
“You don’t need to do this, baby,” I whisper. “We can give all their money back.”
Charlotte shakes her head defiantly and squeezes my hand like a vise. “Nope. I’m doing this.” She smiles at the camera and shouts, “Let’s turn me into a pin cushion, baby!”
After waddling down the sidewalk from the piercing place, hand in hand, Charlotte and I slide into our respective seats of my car, ever so gingerly, at exactly 11:18 pm—which means there’s still plenty of time for me to pay the tuition invoice, due at midnight, on my phone while sitting here.
“Check the final numbers,” Charlotte says excitedly. We knew how much we’d amassed when walking into the tattoo/piercing place just before ten tonight, but we couldn’t see the tips pouring in throughout our piercing adventure, and we’re dying to find out how much we’ve added to our pre-piercing totals.
As Charlotte holds her breath, I log into our account and then gasp in astonishment when I behold the final number on the dashboard. “Holy shit. Our final haul for today is over twenty-eight thousand bucks!”
Charlotte whoops and cheers, until I take her face in my palms and kiss the living hell out of her. For several minutes, we kiss and laugh and then babble excitedly about our crazy day. Other than the piercings, which were a tag-team affair, Charlotte did the lion’s share of crazy shit today, because she’s the one our audience was most excited to watch doing weird stuff. One superfan, Lucille1990, paid a full grand to watch Charlotte being driven, naked and standing up, in a convertible with the top down, fast enough to make her tits and hair flap in the wind. To fulfill that particular request, we borrowed Tessa’s convertible Mercedes, covered the license plates, and drove it to a nearby rained-out, deserted construction area only a few minutes away. Mission accomplished. After that, we made another superfan, Catfish2000, happy as a clam by doing a livestream of Charlotte, naked, mowing Ryan and Tessa’s back lawn. Right after that, Charlotte climbed a ladder, nude, and pretended to hang Christmas lights in April, while I shot her from below. And on and on it went, culminating in the piercings we just completed.