Page 53 of Ho Ho Oh No

Still working to restore her equilibrium after being clit blasted, Lettie takes some deep breaths and dabs her brow with the back of her wrist.

“Well...” Kri holds up her palm. “Maybe it’s nothing.”

Lettie arches a brow at me, then joins me in non-verbally screaming at Kri for an explanation via our hoot owl eyes and open mouths.

“Spit it out before you choke on it, girl,” Lettie orders with a wave of her hand.

“I know this is a personal question, so if you don’t answer, I won’t be offended.” Kri squints one eye, and the same side of her face crumples like a wadded piece of paper. “The toy wouldn’t happen to be thePortable Pleasure Pal, would it?”

Lettie quaffs down most of the oxygen in the room, which I take as a big fat affirmative response.

While the realization sinks in, all three of us link hands.

Overdramatic? Perhaps.

Then again, is there such a thing as too much drama for a true brat? I submit there isnot.

Pinning my sisters in snark with a faux sullen look, I ask, “Brats, do you know what this means?”

“Fucking hell,” Kri forces out through a harsh exhale.

Lettie clicks her tongue. “It was one thing when Tomer was coaching Klein since he’s so new to the lifestyle, but this changes things.”

My nods grow more emphatic. “If Shep’s involved in the info exchange, we’re all in trouble. He brings too much Dom experience into the equation. They’ll become too powerful.”

“And that fucker was giving me shit about our Brat Pack.” Kri rolls her tongue over her teeth as her murderous eyes seek out Shep. Her fist softly hits the top of her thigh. “He’s gotsomenerve since they’ve clearly got their own thing going on. The balls on him.”

I cringe and blow a raspberry. “No thanks. I’d rather not think about Shep’s balls.”

“Assuming the Doms were clever enough to come up with a name, what do you think they call themselves?” Lettie muses, humor decorating her tone. “A penis pack?” She snaps her fingers, jerking upright in her chair. “Ooo!Ooo! I got it. A prick pack. Prick pack paddywhack give a Dom a bone.”

Kri’s giggle titters around the back of her throat as she struggles to stifle it. “Adicktatorship. A cock cartel. A dong dynasty.”

I nearly choke on my tongue at the unexpected hilarity. Lettie going off on a random silly tangent is one thing, but Kri doing it is another. Our combined laughter detonates like a bomb, drawing the attention of half the partygoers.

Sammy waves at us from the other side of the room, where she’s camped out and clearly settled for the rest of the night. Or until she needs to pee. “Hey. Stop having fun without me,” she shouts over the din, then flips us off.

Lettie cups her hand to shield her mouth. “I love Sammy, but we can’t tell her. She’s one of them.”

“Solid point.” I finish my drink and add, “We need a gender-neutral name for the Doms. Suggestions?”

“Butthole brigade,” Lettie blurts without missing a beat.

Choking back my laugh, I say, “Nah. Too low brow. How about the dominant conglomerate?”

Kri tosses out, “And they hold their meetings at domination station.”

We take turns piling on to the gag. Laughter pours from the three of us in a rippling stream, becoming boisterous. Even the guys are noticing now, which means we need to keep it down before they bust up our good time.

Lettie’s face grows impossibly more animated, and she bounces with excitement. “Asshole association. It gives a whole new meaning to AA.”

I extend my spread fingers toward Lettie, rotating them in a tight circle to gesture at her midsection. “I get the sense you’re harboring some animosity tonight, Lettie. Your suggestions, while hilarious, are somewhat hostile. Anything you need to discuss with the council?”

She lowers her jaw to her chest with a sharp click of her tongue. “You’d be hostile too if you’d been edged for two hours straight while in public and unable to react.”

Kri rubs her back in a consolatory circle. “You could always go take it out.”

Either Lettie’s a terrific actress or she’s highly offended by that suggestion. “No way. Then he’d win.Man alive, have I taught you nothing?” Her forehead crimps as she looks at poor Kri like she’s got an overbaked potato for a brain, hold the sour cream. “If I yield, then Tomer will know it’s an effective punishment. And then he’ll tell Klein, bringing Mia down too. We must stand firm, or they’ll take us down one after another.”

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