Squirrel Quest

The neon lights were buzzin', the walls were stacked with every kink under the sun.

"Leave a review and get free lube!" Carrie exulted, pointin' at the sign. "Where's my phone?"

Zach barely looked up from where he was starin' at a locked glass case labeled Extreme Cages. "Babe, you are not leavin' a review just for a two-ounce bottle of off-brand silicone dick slick."

Carrie scoffed. "What if it's good lube? What if it's the best lube I ever had? What if I die one day never knowin' I coulda had this lube for free?"

Squirrel snorted, flippin' through a stack of discount DVDs. "She's got a point. Free lube's free lube."

Carrie snapped her fingers at Zach. "Gimme your phone."

"No."

"Gimme your phone."

Zach held it tighter, eyes narrowing. "You're gonna write somethin' insane."

Carrie gasped, hand over her heart. "Me?"

"Yes, you."

Squirrel cut in, grinning. "Let her do it. What's the worst that happens? The Pink Pussycat becomes a tourist destination?"

Carrie was already typing. "This store changed my LIFE. Never have I encountered such an extensive, affordable, innovative collection of erotic goods and novelties. The staff? Angelic. The selection? Biblically overwhelming. The vibes? Immaculate. My marriage? Saved. My ass? Destroyed. Five stars."

Zach groaned. "Jesus Christ, Carrie."

She hit submit and held up the tiny bottle of lube in triumph. "Winner winner, chicken dinner."

Squirrel pocketed a handful of discount nipple clamps. "I love this for us."

They wandered deeper into the store, takin' their time, touchin' everything. Vibrators, harnesses, leather masks, a wall of dildos sorted by size from "Starter Pokémon" to "You Need To See A Priest." The staff watched 'em with a mixture of amusement and disbelief, the unspoken question hangin' in the air: Do these idiots have jobs?

Squirrel stopped by a display of long, opera-style latex gloves, pullin' one on up to her elbow. "Classy as hell. You think I could do crimes in these?"

Carrie was across the aisle, holdin' up a slingshot bikini made of what barely qualified as fabric. "What I wanna know is if the Girls* would fit in these sexy little outfits."*

Zach, still trailin' behind, arms crossed, deadpan as ever, sighed. "You never wear sexy outfits."

Carrie turned, hands on hips, eyes gleamin'. "Yeah, Zach. And why--" she gestured broadly at her tits "--plant trees in front of Mount Rushmore?"

Squirrel whistled low. "Damn."

One of the employees choked on their gum.

Carrie tossed the bikini back onto the rack. "C'mon, let's go look at the ridiculous shit. Bet they got a strap bigger than your arm in here."

Squirrel grinned, already headin' that way. "What, like a challenge?"

And then they found it.

The Luxor.

Eighteen inches of latex and spite. A monstrosity. A weapon forged in the darkest depths of hell, designed not for pleasure but for intimidation. The kinda thing that made lesser people reevaluate their life choices just by lookin' at it. Acres of rubber tree plants died for each of the massive dildos.

Carrie dropped to her knees in front of the display, arms raised in reverence. "We are but ants before a god."

Squirrel stared. Just stared. "That's not a dildo. That's a hate crime."

Zach, standin' between 'em, looked like he wanted to evaporate into the drywall. His voice was weak, barely above a whisper. "Why would anyone need that?"

Carrie shot him a wicked grin. "Need? Baby, it's not about need. It's about sending a message."

Squirrel nodded solemnly. "A message that says, 'Do not enter unless you have battle experience and a strong core.'"

Zach exhaled through his nose, long and sufferin'. "I wanna go home."

But they weren't done.

Toward the back, tucked between the more exotic selections, they found her.

A life-sized redheaded latex doll--with Squirrel's exact face.

There was a beat of silence.

Carrie's hands went to her hips. "Oh, come the fuck on."

Zach made a small, thoughtful noise. Too thoughtful.

Squirrel, arms crossed, inspectin' her synthetic twin with narrowed eyes, nodded sagely. "I want royalties."

Carrie turned to her, incredulous. "That's your takeaway?"

Squirrel gestured at the doll's absurd proportions. "Well, yeah. Clearly, someone got real inspired. I'm not sayin' I deserve a cut, but I'm also not sayin' that."

Zach cleared his throat, still starin' at the doll. "I mean. They got the--uh. The shape. Pretty accurate."

Carrie whipped her head around so fast her hair nearly smacked him in the face. "Zachary Noah Rannis, do you wanna die tonight?"

He blinked rapidly. "Nope! Nope. I'm good. Let's go. Right now. Leavin'."

Carrie pointed a warning finger at the doll. "I swear to God, if we come back here and she's sold, I'm burnin' this place to the ground."

And yet, before they left, there was still one thing left to do.

Carrie clapped her hands. "Alright, Squirrel. Pick a dick."

Squirrel blinked. "Excuse me?"

Carrie grinned, pullin' out her crumpled wad of bills. "Go wild, honey! Any of 'em... that cost less than--" she licked her thumb, countin' fast, "thirty bucks!"

Squirrel surveyed the wall of choices. "So what you're sayin' is I gotta find the best budget dick."

"Exactly. Like a thrift shop, but for gettin' railed."

Squirrel took a deep breath, suddenly solemn. "No one's ever bought me a dick before."

Carrie smirked. "Well, baby, dreams do come true."

And so she hunted. Inspectin' each candidate with the precision of a knight choosin' a sword. Holdin' 'em up to the light. Weighin' 'em in her palm. Whisperin' things to 'em that Carrie and Zach pretended not to hear.

When at last she made her choice, she cradled it to her chest like a holy relic.

"I am so proud of you," Carrie said, dabbin' at fake tears.

Zach sighed. "Can we please just pay for the damn thing and go home?"

They did. And then they rushed home.

Because now it was time to put it to use.

With Zach watchin', Squirrel bent over, ass high, waitin' for Carrie's strap-on.

"Hope you been stretchin'," Carrie teased, runnin' a firm hand down the curve of Squirrel's back. "'Cause I ain't takin' it easy. Not with an audience."

Squirrel twisted her head just enough to smirk at Carrie over her shoulder. "You say that now, but let's see who's beggin' first."

Zach exhaled sharp from where he sat, shiftin', the cage between his legs a constant fuckin' reminder of exactly who ran this show. This wasn't about him. This was Carrie and Squirrel, a whole-ass collision of teasing, control, and somethin' deeper than just the act. And he had to sit there, ache for it, need it, but not get a damn thing.

"Think you got the nerve to keep that up?" Carrie asked, draggin' the tip of the strap along Squirrel's inner thigh, slow and deliberate. "'Cause I was plannin' on ruinin' you."

Squirrel let out a short laugh, breathy with anticipation. "That's the plan? 'Cause I was thinkin' 'bout makin' you work for it. Gettin' you so frustrated you start whinin'. You always do."

Carrie's fingers tightened against Squirrel's hips. "The fuck I do."

"Oh, you do," Squirrel purred. "And I'm gonna hear it again before the night's over."

Zach groaned, hands grippin' the arms of his chair, watchin' as Carrie palmed Squirrel's ass with both hands, squeezin', spreadin', teasin'. He gasped as she positioned herself, the head of the strap rubbin' against slick heat, makin' Squirrel push back just enough to chase it.

"Yeah, that's right," Carrie murmured. "Take it just like that. Nice and slow. Feel me stretch you out. Let Zach see what a real good girl looks like."

Squirrel gasped as Carrie pressed forward, steady, firm, unyielding. Carrie hissed between her teeth, her grip tight, reveling in the way Squirrel opened up for her.

"Mmm, fuck, you're tight," Carrie groaned, voice rough, filthy, talkin' like some sleazy porno. It was fuckin' absurd. "Gonna fuck you just right, baby. Gonna make you cum with my cock inside you while Zach sits there, all locked up, watchin' me do what he can't."

She actually said those fuckin' words. I'm not lyin'.

Zach whined in the back of his throat, hips jerkin' involuntarily. Carrie turned to look at him, eyes bright with wicked amusement.

"You wanna touch, baby?" she cooed, rockin' deeper into Squirrel, makin' her whimper. "Oh wait--you can't. Poor thing. All you can do is watch."

Squirrel whimpered, pushin' back against Carrie, meetin' each slow thrust with more urgency. "You talk too much," she gasped.

"Oh yeah?" Carrie smirked, snappin' her hips forward, makin' Squirrel arch and cry out. "Then shut me up. Take it."

Zach clenched his jaw, swallowin' hard as Carrie set the pace, each motion deliberate, each moan from Squirrel like fuel on a fire that was already too fuckin' hot. He couldn't do a damn thing. He was locked, achin', forced to sit there while his hot, ruthless Carina Marie Delvecchio wrecked their roommate like it was her damn job.

And then Carrie felt it. The way Squirrel clenched around her, the way her breath caught--Squirrel was close, but Carrie could work this. Could orchestrate it.

She glanced at Zach, at the way he twitched in his chair, jaw clenched, fists white-knuckled. She knew him, knew exactly how far gone he was. Knew exactly what buttons to push.

"Y'know, baby," Carrie purred, keepin' her rhythm steady, "if I play this just right, I bet I can make both of you cum at the same time."

Squirrel whimpered, her whole body shudderin'. Zach let out a strangled sound, fingers flexin' like he wanted to touch himself--like he ached to.

Carrie licked her lips, draggin' her nails down Squirrel's back, pickin' up the pace, makin' her squirm. "That's it, Squirrel. Feel it. Let it take you. And Zach? I know you feel it too. Every single little pulse in that cage, every little throb you can't do a damn thing about."

Zach whined, shakin' his head. "Carrie--"

"Shhh," she soothed, thrustin' harder, sharper, feelin' Squirrel start to break beneath her. "Just let it happen. Let me have you both."

Squirrel gasped, trembled, the little redheaded freak fell apart around Carrie, moanin' loud enough to make Zach jerk in his seat. The second she did, Carrie turned to Zach, voice all syrupy filth.

"Cum for me, baby. Right now."

And he did. His body snapped tight, thighs shakin', a helpless, broken noise spillin' from his throat as the orgasm ripped through him, untouched, just from her--her words, her command, her.

Carrie smirked, strokin' Squirrel's back as she slumped forward, spent and wrecked. She turned her head lazy toward Zach, who was pantin', boneless in his seat, starin' at her in dazed disbelief.

"Told you," she murmured, pressin' a kiss to Squirrel's shoulder. "I always play it right."

Zach fuckin' lost consciousness.