CHARLENE
Tonight the girls are coming over to watch the hockey game. I tidy up the living room, having passed out on the couch last night. I’ll blame it on lack of sleep prior to Darren going away and the Hoarders marathon. The whole him showing up unannounced, flowers and chocolate thing was a shock, not to mention the normal-people sex and the all-night spooning. But I’ll admit, I enjoyed every moment of it, and I’m not opposed to a repeat.
I go about setting out all the snacks—the Doritos and onion dip are perfect since the boys are away—and make sure I have wine and sparkling juice for Sunny and Violet. The doorbell rings in the middle of setting up. It’s only five-thirty, and the girls aren’t supposed to arrive until closer to seven, but Violet often shows up early, bestie privileges and all.
I open the door, ready for the shenanigans to begin, and Violet’s snide comments about pearl necklaces and anal. Except it’s not my bestie.
“Mom?”
“Char-char!” She drops her bag and throws her arms around me, enveloping me in a tight, painful hug.
I pat her back, glancing over her shoulder. Laverne, the old lady next door is busy tending her garden—or was. She’s currently staring slack jawed in our direction. It takes me a moment to realize why. My mom is dressed in her work gear.
“Why don’t you come in?” I maintain the hug while dragging her inside the house and away from the neighbor’s eyes. I hope Laverne’s pacemaker is working these days, because she looks like she might be going into shock.
I grab my mom’s bag from the front porch, give Laverne a quick wave, and disappear inside.
“I didn’t realize you were arriving today.” My voice has that high-pitched quality to it, much like a prepubescent boy who’s accidentally zipped up his man noodle.
My mom is decked out in a black leather corset, complete with buckles and chains—hence the painfulness of the hug. Her skirt is short and barely covers her butt, and she’s wearing fishnets and huge heeled boots with buckles that end mid-calf. Her makeup can only be described as goth, or maybe emo. Her hair has been dyed jet black, and her lipstick is the color of a rich cabernet sauvignon.
“Oh! Did I forget to tell you I was coming in today? I swore I left a voicemail for you, or maybe that was in my head. I thought it might be nicer to stay with you than at a hotel. We can catch up and have some real quality mother-daughter bonding time!”
“Right. Sure. I have a spare bedroom. How long are you going to be in town?” I’m beyond relieved that Darren has already left Chicago for a variety of reasons.
“Just three days, so I want to make the most of it. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. You look . . .” She seems to struggle to find the right descriptive word and finally settles on “Good.” Her pinched expression tells me she does not, in fact, think I look good.
I would describe my outfit as cute. As soon as I arrived home from work, I changed into my Westinghouse jersey and a pair of black and red leggings boasting the Chicago logo.
My mom flits around the kitchen, adjusting the dishcloth draped over the edge of the sink. “Anyway, tonight’s a bit of a rush. I have a client meeting at eight that will probably take a few hours, depending—” She’s interrupted by another knock.
Shit. It’s still too early for the girls to be here.
“Oh! That’s for me.” My mother struts to the door.
“Did you invite your client here?” I choke the words out, mortified by the possibility.
She throws a look over her shoulder. “Of course not, Char-char. I’ll explain it all. Just give me a moment.”
She throws open the door and a swarm of people flood my kitchen. With video cameras. And there’s some guy wearing one of those latex face masks with only eyeholes and a mouth hole, dressed in leather chaps, his entire ass on display. Thankfully his penis isn’t hanging out.
“Mom?” There’s that high pitch again.
She turns and claps her hands excitedly. “They’re casting for a reality show this weekend. It’s called Momma Domme! Isn’t that cute? Anyway, I thought it was a great opportunity. This is my audition video. It’s so much classier to film it in a house, you know? It’ll only take half an hour.”
And this, right here, is one of the many reasons I have never introduced Darren to my mother.
I pull her aside. “Is that a good idea, Mom? Being on a reality show? I mean, you’ll be putting your face out there for everyone to see.”
“I’ll be wearing a mask, so it’ll be fine. Plus, I dyed my hair for the show. You worry too much.” She pats my cheek.
This coming from a woman who cut a hole in a barbed-wire fence, taught me how to hotwire a car, and drove me across continental middle America to escape a whole pile of crazy. Then she legally changed our names—not the best names, and not the best changes, but then, my mom doesn’t always think things through. Who willingly chooses the last name Hoar?
“I have friends coming over soon,” I tell her.
“Don’t worry, Char-char. They’ll be in and out within the hour.”
I sure as hell hope so. Explaining my sex life with Darren is one thing, but explaining my mother is another entirely.
I make myself tea as the crew takes over the kitchen and starts moving furniture out of the way. The chair from my living room is relocated to where the table once was. A footstool is brought in while my mother opens her bag and sets out a vast array of sex toys, many of which I’m familiar with since she likes to send me every new prototype she gets her hands on.
“Nice place,” Mask Guy says. He’s doing that head-nod thing people do when they’re uncomfortable and don’t know what else to say. He also hitches his thumbs in his chaps, probably wishing he had pockets.
“Uh, thanks.”
“So that’s your mom, huh?” He inclines his head in her direction. She’s using eyelash glue to attach a mask to her face. All it covers is the area around her eyes, so it’s not particularly great at concealing her identity. I’d like to point this detail out to her, but there are currently too many people here.
“Yup.” I bring my mug to my lips and blow. Later I’m drinking wine, or shots. Right now I’m trying to calm myself with chamomile.
“Do you ever tag team?”
I choke on a mouthful of hot tea and cough, trying to clear my airway. I set my mug on the counter as Mask Guy slaps me on the back. But when I keep coughing, he starts the Heimlich on me, and several flashes go off.
“Stop! Please don’t touch me,” I yell at both the photographer and the mask guy as I smack at his hands. He releases me and drops to all fours.
“I’m prepared to accept my punishment, mistress daughter.”
I flail around. “Mom! Can you come deal with this?”
This is way more than any daughter should have to handle when her mom comes for a visit.
My mom steps in and slaps Mask Guy on the ass a couple of times. She gives me a patient smile while she pats his head like he’s a dog, not a person.
“I brought you fresh candies. They’re in my bag. Why don’t you have one and relax, sweetie? I also brought you presents, but we can open them together if you want to wait.”
I grab my mom’s bag and take it to the living room, where there is no camera crew. I find the bag of candies in one of the side pockets—which is the only place I check because going through my mom’s overnight bag isn’t for the faint of heart, and I’m sure I’ll find a few things I’d rather not see.
As promised, the camera crew is able to wrap things up within the hour. But of course, Mom has to chat them up, so they’re on their way out the door when Violet and Poppy arrive.
Mask Guy pulls it up over his head on his way out the door. His hair is wet from being encased in latex for the past hour, and his face is red. He might be okay looking, but I’m too distracted by Laverne sitting on her front porch, witnessing the porn parade exit my house.
“If you ever get into the biz, and you need someone to practice on, I’d
love to bottom for you,” maskless Mask Guy says.
“I have a boyfriend.”
“Of course you do.” He slips his hand down the front of his assless chaps and withdraws a baggie. Inside are his business cards. “Here’s my card, should that change.”
“Uh, thanks.”
Violet and Poppy stand at the edge of my garden as the porn parade disperses. They both check out maskless Mask Guy’s ass as he passes. It’s a pretty nice ass; I’ll give him that. I glance the card—apparently his name is Rodney Steele. Of course. Steel rod, how clever.
Violet and Poppy give each other a look before they rush up the walkway and I usher them into the house. “Uh, you wanna explain that?” Vi asks as I close the door behind them.
“Hi girls! You must be Char-char’s friends! I’m Whensday! Her mom!”
When we changed our identities, my mom wanted to make sure our names were easy to remember. Her real name is Wendy, so she decided on Whensday, spelled incorrectly—W-H-E-N-S-D-A-Y. Although she says it was on purpose. My life was a lot weird. Clearly it still is.
Poppy flashes one of her sweet smiles and extends a hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Mom, this is Poppy, and you remember Violet.”
“Oh, yes, of course! And you’re both flowers! How fun is that?” My mom is still wearing her fetish gear. The last time Violet met my mom she was wearing normal-people clothes, so this is a bit of a shocker, I think.
“Um, are you planning to change now that the camera crew is gone, or . . .” I let it hang, hoping she’ll take the hint.
“I have to leave soon to meet with a client, so I’ll change when I get back. What’re you girls doing tonight?”
“We’re watching the hockey playoffs.”
The doorbell rings again, forcing me to leave my mother unsupervised with my friends.
Sunny and Lily are standing on my front porch. They look like a couple of bag ladies with all the stuff they’re carrying, including a sleeping Logan strapped into his car seat. He could be a professional napper. When he isn’t bumbling around being super cute, he’s sleeping on any available surface: chairs, couches, laps, the floor, Lily’s wiener dog’s dog bed.
“Look, girls, I need to tell you some—”
Before I can finish the sentence, my mom makes her presence known. She appears behind me, holding a box of wine—the kind with the spout. “Hi, girls! Oh! This is so fun! Char-char, you have so many friends!”
“Lily, Sunny, this is my mom.” I’m not sure if this is much better than when the guys saw me naked surrounded by crazy sex toys.
Sunny’s eyes go wide, and her mouth forms an “o”. Lily nudges her, and Sunny clamps her mouth shut. Her bag-laden arm shoots out toward my mom. “It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Hoar.” Like Gertrude, she forgets that the H is silent.
Lily chokes back a cough, but my mom doesn’t so much as flinch. “It’s Whensday, darling.”
Sunny’s brow pulls down. “I thought it was Friday.”
My mom throws her head back and cackles. She sounds like a crow being eaten alive. “Aren’t you adorable? My name is Whensday.”
“Like the Addams’ Family girl?” Lily supplies.
“Almost! Except it’s spelled like ‘when are we going to go to the party’, not Wed-ness. Anyway, The Addams Family is my favorite movie in the entire world!”
Sunny looks appropriately confused by this explanation.
My mom claps her hands and looks to me. “We should have a movie night while I’m here and watch it together!”
“Sure, Mom.” Better than Dominatrix training videos, I guess.
I need to pull my mother aside and make sure she doesn’t say anything to my friends about my childhood, because that’s not something I’d like to explain. To anyone. Ever. I don’t think she’ll mention it, as we’ve spent the past decade pretending it never happened, but her behavior today is concerning, so I’m unsure what to expect.
“I wish I could hang out with you girls, but I have a client meeting, and I still have to figure out how to get there.” My mom waves her hand in the air, like the life of a Dominatrix is painfully trying. “Maybe you’ll all still be here when I get back.” She taps her lip. “Although, this client is a bit difficult, so I might be several hours.”
My mom sashays across the kitchen and grabs her bag. “I’ll give you your presents now, Char-char.”
“That’s okay, Mom. They can wait.”
She waves me off. “It’s so much more fun to open presents when you’re with friends, though, isn’t it? And I think your friends will get a kick out of this. We’re all adults here!”
“Sure are,” Violet’s expression is gleefully malevolent.
Usually when Darren buys me things, they’re professionally wrapped, or they come in a pretty bag with nice curly ribbon. Not gifts from my mom. They come in nondescript plastic bags.
I reluctantly peek inside the bag. Oh yeah, this is going to be . . . stranger than usual. I should’ve gotten out the tequila in preparation. I reach inside and pull out the least offensive item.
“What is that?” Sunny tips her head to the side.
“It’s a vibrating cockring. Watch.” My mom plucks it from my hand and puts it in Sunny’s palm before she turns it on.
Sunny’s face turns an even brighter shade of red. “Oh. That would feel . . .”
“Great, right?”
Sunny nods uncertainly.
“Go ahead. There’s more.” My mom motions for me to keep going. When I’m not fast enough, she grabs the bag from me and dumps it on the table.
I sigh as I stare at the weirdness in front of me.
Violet screams and hides behind me. “What the fuck are those?” She points from her place over my shoulder.
“You mean these, or this?” My mom holds up two separate items, both of which are equally freaky.
Violet makes a gagging sound from behind me. “Either, both? Is that real?”
“These are Ben Wa balls, and this a Spidergasm. They’re prototypes for this year’s Halloween Dominatrix party in Vegas! Fun, aren’t they?”
That’s not quite the way I would describe them. The Ben Wa balls—weighted balls that hang out in your vag for pre-sex stimulation—look like actual eyeballs, the kind you find on those creepy dolls, and the Spidergasm looks like a black widow spider.
Violet shudders. “So fun. Can we put those away now?”
“Are you afraid of spiders? This might help you get over your fear.”
“I’m fine. It’s okay.” Violet uses me as a shield.
“No really, you should try it out.”
“I can do it.” Lily steps forward.
We all look at her like maybe she’s lost her mind, but she smiles and holds her hand palm up.
“Okay. So imagine this is your clitoris.” My mom turns on her sexy Dominatrix voice and runs one of her talon nails along the length of Lily’s middle finger.
Lily shivers, but nods, eyes darting questioningly to me. I can’t save her now.
My mom picks up the black widow and makes it pretend crawl across Lily’s palm and up her finger—yes, it’s creepy.
“And this little spider is about to fire off all eight thousand of those nerve endings!” My mom wraps the little spider around the end of Lily’s finger and taps the butt.
Lily shouts her surprise, and then her jaw clamps shut. “Does it . . . bite?”
“Yes! And it vibrates. Research tests are showing that it takes the average woman four minutes to achieve an orgasm through the Black Widow Spidergasm model. That’s one minute faster than their previous model.” My mom maintains her Dominatrix sex sales voice through the entire spiel.
“Huh. That’s—”
“—incredible, right?”
“This explains a lot,” Violet whispers in my ear, still clutching my shoulder.
“I know,” I mumble.
Thankfully my mom’s phone alarm chimes. She pulls her pouty face. “Duty calls
. That’s too bad. I would’ve loved to chill with you girls tonight.” She grabs my arm. “I know! Maybe you and all your girlfriends would like to come to the convention tomorrow.”
“Convention?” Lily asks. The spider is still attached to her finger. She keeps pushing on its butt, increasing and then decreasing the vibrations.
“Sexapalooza! It’s a great convention. I can get you all free tickets since I’m a presenter.” She puffs out her chest, clearly proud of this accomplishment.
“Will there be more stuff like this?” Lily holds up her spider finger.
“Oh yes! If it has to do with sex, it’s there.” My mom roots around in her purse and pulls out a handful of tickets. “Char-char will fill you in. I must be on my way.” She kisses me on the cheek. “I’ll be back later. You girls have fun!”
And with that she’s out the door.
Sunny raises her hand as soon as she’s gone. “Um, what does your mom do for a living?”
Usually I say she’s in the entertainment business, which is kind of true. “She’s a Dominatrix.”
“So what does she do, exactly?” Sunny wraps her hair around her finger.
“Basically she bosses men around until they have an orgasm.” That’s not totally accurate, but for the sake of simplicity, it works.
“Oh.”
“I’m going to have a glass of wine. Anyone else feel like a glass of wine? Or some shots? We could do shots.”
Poppy helps with the wine, and Lily pours sparkling juice into champagne flutes so Sunny and Vi don’t feel left out. I do two shots of Patron, and Lily joins me, because shots.
Once we all have drinks, we head for the living room. Lily still has the black widow spider attached to her finger, so Violet sits as far away from her as she possibly can. The game has already started, but the score is still zero on both sides.
Lily’s only half paying attention, still fascinated with the clit-biting spider. “We’re going to the convention tomorrow, right? Randy’s been talking about lingerie shopping and ball gags so . . .”
“You’ll be able to get your very own ball gag there for sure. And lingerie.” I mean it to be snarky, but based on their expressions, I don’t think anyone takes it that way.
Pucked Love Page 9