Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
When we finish eating, Superass and Travis offer me a ride to Metropolis, but I tell them I need to swing by the grocery store.
But I don’t need groceries.
I catch an Uber, keying in the leather shop’s addy.
It’s like something is possessing me, this impulse, this urge, this desire that has been awakened within me since I saw that hood the other day.
It’s been building up for some reason.
And now it’s almost like I can’t help myself.
On the way over, I decide my excuse will be that I’m looking for something to go with my outfit for that party we got the leather pants and harnesses for.
Yes, that’ll work just fine. No one will think anything weird about that. I’m accessorizing, for Christ’s sake.
As I enter the shop, I check around, noticing the hood behind the front counter.
Z squats beside a shelf as he packs it with boxes of dildos. There’s a loose dildo he grabs, and as the door closes behind me, he turns, and a warm smile spreads across his face.
“Well, hey there, Evan,” he says, pushing to his feet.
I feel the blood rushing to my face, I remind myself I don’t have a reason to be embarrassed. He can’t read my thoughts, and he doesn’t know what I’m really here for.
He approaches, asking, “What can I help you with today? Does that harness work for you? Did you need to return it?”
I can’t help but notice the giant dildo he’s still holding.
Jesus, Peter’s wasn’t even close to that.
“No, no, no,” I say. “I’m just looking for something to go with my outfit. I was thinking maybe a wristband or something.”
“You sure you don’t want to go with the puppy hood?” he asks with a smile.
“What? No. I just—”
“That was a joke. And why do you have that weird reaction to it? It’s not this strange or horrible thing. We’ve all worn masks before. Haven’t you ever gone out on Halloween?”
I laugh.
I feel kind of silly about how much I’ve built this up. Is it really that different than when I was a kid and dressing up for Halloween?
Have I been making too big of a deal out of this?
“You’d look really cute in it, by the way. And the one we got behind the register, that’s a small. I mean, talk about an accessory for that party.”
I laugh again, uncomfortably this time.
“I’ll be right back.”
I have a feeling I know what he’s going to do, and I want to say something to stop him, but my curiosity gets the best of me.
He walks around some display racks that block my view of the front counter. He’s gone just a moment before he returns with the puppy hood in hand, clearly having discarded the dildo.
He leads me over to a floor-length mirror by a rack of shirts with different prints across them like Daddy’s Boy and Spoogerag.
He offers me the hood. “Just try it on. Come on. I saw the way you were eyeing it the other day. Just do it for fun.”
I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Or why this moment seems so significant.
In the back of my mind, I hear Peter and my parents telling me that this is dumb. They always thought they knew what was best for me…that I wasn’t smart enough to make a good decision on my own.
Finally, after too long of a pause, I say, “Oh. No, no, no. I probably shouldn’t.”
“It’s fine. It’s made of neoprene, so it’s almost like a Halloween mask. It’ll slide right on. I think it’s just your size.”
He’s pressing, and I’m kind of glad.
He holds it closer to me, and I almost can’t help myself—the way I grab it.
I hold it before me, massaging my fingers across the fabric.
“I think you’d look real cute in it,” Z adds. “And there aren’t going to be too many people wearing these at the party.”
“I couldn’t wear it there, for sure.” But maybe I could try it on here?
I mean, it’s just me and Z.
“Some of my pups and I are going, so it wouldn’t be that strange. But try it on. See how you look.”
I can do this. I can do this, I tell myself, trying to mentally will myself to take this step.
I take a breath, looking in the mirror as I slide it over my head.
My hands are shaking, fucking trembling.
Z helps me a little bit, tucking it close so that it surrounds my face and I look at myself in the mirror.
I thought I would feel anxious and uneasy, like I did before I put the mask on, but there’s something about it that almost feels like it protects me because I’m in disguise. And even Z, who could see my nervousness just moments earlier, can’t read what I’m thinking.
I could be anyone under this. Not just the insecure ex-model with shit parents who didn’t care about who he was…or the moron who got played by that bastard Peter.