“Prince Albert here wants the royal treatment.” Eli howls out a laugh.
Who the hell invited him to this party again?
“Oh!” Her eyes enlarge. “Ooh.” She winces. “Follow me.” She sets us up in a large room that has the capacity to seat us all. “You sit here, sugar.” She offers a sickly smile. “I don’t do needles, so I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
Jet comes in, and she bounces a kiss off his lips before taking off. I knew it was his girlfriend. I’ve seen them together at the bar on more than one occasion. And they work together, too? It must be rough to be chained down like that, never able to escape.
“It’s you.” Jet offers a polite smile. “And you.” He slaps Grant five. “What’s up, boys? Who’s having all the fun?” He gurgles a dark laugh while gloving up.
The room gives a slight spin, and as much as I’d like to blame the scotch, I know for a fact it’s that tray of mid-century weaponry he’s got laid out in front of me.
“I’m up.” I take a deep breath. “It’s a Prince Albert kind of a night.” That sounded stupid as shit, just like me sitting here waiting to have my dick punctured is stupid as shit.
“Let’s see it.” Jet puts on a pair of clear goggles and a paper gown. “You might be a bleeder.”
Bleeder? My dick has the potential to fuckingbleed? The room gives a slight spin again.
I unbutton my jeans and pull my junk out of my boxers. Jet comes in close and flicks the tip hard with his middle finger.
“Holy shit!” I bark out, and he laughs.
“Relax. That was me gauging your response. It wasn’t pretty. Buck up, buttercup. You’re in for a shit ride. You need something to bite down on? I don’t like a lot of noise. It scares potential customers.”
“I’m good.” I growl over at my ex-friends all tittering to themselves like a bunch of thirteen-year-old girls.
“All right. I’ll have you pick out a piece. He hands me a black velvet box filled with gold and silver rings with a round nub on the end of each of them.
“This one really gets the girls going.” He lands his finger over a thick one with a particularly large ball on the end. “She’ll thank you, and you’ll thank me.”
“Good enough. How bad is this going to hurt?”
Jet ticks his head back a notch as he takes the ring out and soaks it in alcohol. “Dude, you’re getting a very sensitive part of your body punctured with a fucking needle. Do the math.” He takes my dick in his hand, and I begin to sweat. “You sure you go to Briggs?” He gives a little wink, and that’s when I see Lucky’s face hiding out there in his features. Those exaggeratingly large eyes, that smooth skin, the same straight nose, and squared-off teeth. I’d give anything to be with her right now and not locked in a room with my dick in her brother’s hand.
“Close your eyes if you have to.” He comes at me with a ball of cotton dipped in something that resembles blood.
“Just cleaning you up. The risk of infection is low, but I need you to keep this shit clean. You got that?”
As soon as that cold liquid touches down over my skin, I hop out of my seat, stuff my unroyal ass back into my boxers, and make a beeline for the exit. I’ll run home if I have to.
Eli, Rush, and Grant pour out of Think Ink laughing their asses off.
“You should have seen your face!” Rush leans back and howls at the moon.
Grant comes in and pats me on the back. “Thanks, man. I couldn’t watch you do it. I think you spared all of us nightmares that would have spanned decades.”
Eli comes over, shaking his head at me, that stupid grin still plastered on his face. “Rush told half the girls we were headed over. I bet there’s a line forming outside your bedroom right now with girls just dying to take you for a test drive.” He pats my back. “This could still work to your advantage.”
“Great,” I say lackluster as we pile back into Rush’s Rover.
My phone buzzes, and I look down to see a text from Lucky.
Hail to the King! Or should I say Prince? Half the girls in Cutler Tower didn’t even know what a Prince Albert was until tonight. Way to educate the masses. Hope you brought your tweezers and magnifying glass! Do they make rings that small? ;)
I frown down at her words as if it were Lucky herself. She’s the exact reason I’m in this mess to begin with, and yet ironically having her shoot me a text makes everything feel a little better.
I text right back.I see good news travels fast.If you’re gunning for a dick pic, you can tuck yourself back into bed with your teddy bear. This isn’t show-and-tell, princess. This is for the big girls. Unless you’re volunteering to kiss it and make it better, I’ll see you on the flip side.
She texts back.Kiss it and make it better? Just vomited all over my imaginary teddy bear. Good luck with your bloody specimen. A word of advice, bedazzling body parts is never suggested or recommended, especially not the delicate variety. I’m sure your mom is proud.
