“Y-yes,” I said, bending to give her the kiss she requested.
“Hey, have you gone to the bathroom yet today?”
My eyes rounded. “Like . . . poop bathroom?”
“Yep!” she sang.
“Um, yes.”
“Perfect,” she said. “Follow me.”
Mara was even on her cane that day, and she still had pep in her step. She led me into our bathroom. “Sit and wait for me. I’ll be right back.”
It was her enthusiasm that scared me. She popped back around the corner with a box in her hand, as well as a large bulb thing. She filled the bottom part of the bulb with warm water. “Alright, Jackie. Since you can’t seem to tell me the truth lately, you’re going to take your punishment.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
“Would you like to do the enema, or do you want me to do it for you?”
“Wait, that goes . . . up my . . .”
“Yes. Give me a color, Jack.”
I drew a shallow breath and I felt light-headed. “I’m about to go to practice, though.”
“Yes, I know. I’m coming with you. Give me a color.”
“Hang on. What happens after the enema?”
Mara extracted a plug from the box, not heinously big, but also not small. “You’ll wear this.”
“Just until I go to practice, right? Like an hour?” I asked.
“No, silly. You’re going to wear it during practice. And the cool thing about this is that it vibrates and uses a cool app on my phone to control it.”
Cold sweat broke out all over my body. “W-what? When can I take it out, ma’am?”
“Let’s see, you get to Calgary this afternoon, right?”
I nodded and gulped.
“Give me a color, Jack.”
I did the crime. I had to do the time. But I had a feeling the next several hours were going to be torture. Hopefully sweettorture, though figuring out how to relieve myself with my teammates around might pose a bit of a problem.
“Green.”
FIFTY-ONE
MARA
MARCH
Jack steppedonto the ice for his practice, everyone taking practice shots to settle in. He’d already sent me a text complaining when he was riding the stationary bike that he could feel the plug. I reminded him he was lucky I hadn’t set it off yet.
Did I feel bad punishing Jack like this? Yes and no. Actually, not really at all. He was lying to me, and I was pretty sure he had been since his “fishing trip.”
I blew him a kiss as he skated back my way, taking my seat several rows up from the glass. He didn’t need me as any more distraction than I’d already be.
