Chapter 11

Kitty

I couldn’t fathom what Astrid might have in store for us as we walked out of the Old Street tube. 

She hadn’t elaborated, despite my protests. 

”You’ll find out soon enough,” Astrid grinned.

The notion of the unexpected was scary, but also, I had to admit, alluring. To an almost scandalising level. 

We walked along the littered pavement to the tattoo shop, which seemed unusually brightly lit. 

Astrid stopped by the door and it took me a second to remember I was supposed to open it. She smiled sweetly as I did. 

“Hey, Rash,” Astrid called out cheerily as I followed her in. 

“Astrid.”

The perfunctory acknowledgement came from a heavily tattooed woman in a white shirt and leather vest leaning over the cash-counter, leafing through a large binder. Her long hair, from the side that wasn’t shaved, fell forward so I could barely make out old the piercing scars on her rugged pale skin. 

I was struck.

“I can’t make heads or tails of these fuckin’ rotaries,” she complained, gesturing to the binder and looking up at us, “I’m loyal to the coil, I am… oh”

“Rash, this is my new girl,” Astrid surprised me. 

Not that there was anything wrong with what she said, I supposed. But still. 

“Oooh yes, your fabled new girl,” Road Rash eyed me with clear interest, closed the binder and stepped lazily around the counter.

“Well, yes, she was a very recent acquisition,” Astrid smiled. 

It was jarring to be spoken about as a possession, but also once again scandalising pleasant too. 

“Uh huh,” Road Rash muttered, walking over to us whilst wiping her hands on a rag drawn from the back-pocket of her profoundly tight striped trousers. 

“Does she have a name?”

“Kitty,” Astrid replied, “She’s allowed to speak freely.”

“Oh, alright then,” Road Rash only then turned to me and reached out her hand to shake, “Hi there, Astrid’s girl, Kitty.” 

“Pleasure,” I took her hand, curtseyed, and blew my own mind.

I wasn’t sure I had ever curtseyed in my adult life. Not since those god-awful ballet lessons as a child. But I curtseyed for Road Rash. 

Automatically. 

I was mortified.

“You’ve trained her well, Astrid,” Road Rash said appreciatively. 

I blushed fiercely. 

“But can she do a full curtsey?” Road Rash asked of her.

Astrid seemed as surprised by my curtsey as I was, ”We’ve only just started her training.”

“I will look forward to that then,” Road Rash turned to Astrid again, “We’ll have to wait, Kirsten’s still in there with a client.”

Astrid nodded as if she understood entirely what that meant.

“I haven’t seen you before, have I?” Road Rash asked me as she reclined in one of the shop’s large creaking dentist chairs.

“I don’t think so,” I tried to blush less, “but it’s also not my first time… here I mean. Otherwise, it kind of is my first times…ish.”

“I was probably busy when you were here before. Can’t imagine with what. Or who.” 

Road Rash glanced me up and down.

“Well, I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself then, I’m the owner, I suppose.”

“You have a beautiful space,” I wanted to kick myself for being so gauche. 

“Thanks,” she still didn’t fully crack a smile, “All those years, workin’ in some other cunt’s shop, I finally managed to save up to get this place.”

She emphasised the point by slapping the arm-rest of her chair.

“And, as luck would have it, it also had a fuck off big basement to turn into a dungeon.”

“Road Rash runs the club at cost,” Astrid explained.

“At cost? You’re havin’ a laugh!” Road Rash guffawed, “But there ain’t many places for us, so I like to keep it open, and now and again rent it out… and speaking of, if Kirsten is much fuckin’ longer, I’ll go and kick her arse harder than she’s kicking that boy down there in the bollocks.”

“Rash…” Astrid gently chided.

“Wha’?” Road Rash huffed, “She’s takin’ the piss, I’ve half a mind…”

“No, you don’t,” Astrid said with the kind of calm authority that comes from a long-standing friendship.

“Aye,” Road Rash deflated, “Well, she’d still better get a move on.”

“She loves Kirsten, really,” Astrid turned to me. 

“Aye, I do,” Road Rash replied, with genuine affection, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t haul her o’er a box and…”

“Finised!” came a cheery call from the back of the shop followed by a short woman with bright pink bobbed-hair, dressed in a vinyl bodysuit, towering spiked heels, and carrying a spectacularly long coiled whip.

“About bloody time,” Road Rash stood up, “Is he still in there? Do I have to clean up after you two?”

“Made him lick it up and kicked his arse out the back,” Kirsten grinned wickedly.

Road Rash nodded curtly, either pleased to hear she didn’t have tidy, or out of approval for Kirsten’s methods. 

“As long as he paid you properly for the privilege,” Road Rash walked to the back, “because if he didn’t, I’ll do more to ’im than make ’im lick the floor clean.”

“So fierce, Rash,” Kirsten shook her head, “And no, you don’t have to stomp him, he pays upfront, the dear.”

“Right, well,  tha’s Astrid’s new girl, she can speak freely,” Road Rash waved in our direction and walked into the club. 

“Oh, sorry, ’ello Astrid darling,” Kirstin closed the distance between us to give Astrid a kiss on the cheek and then happily waved at me with a vinyl-gloved hand, “Hiya, I’m Kirsten.”

“Kitty,” I replied, still dumbfounded, trying to take it all in. 

“Don’t mind Rash,” Kirsten squatted to rummage through her sports bag, “She’s always like that.”

I looked to Astrid, who nodded a confirmation.

“Anyway, gotta run. Wish I could stay and get some recreational in…,” Kirsten lamented, clumsily swapping her heels for trainers, “but I’m knackered and I’ve got three back-to-back tomorrow, so I’m going home to veg.”

“Take it easy Kirsten,” Astrid chided in a motherly tone, “Don’t work too hard.”

“I promise,” Kirsten threw her bag over her shoulder and looked at me, “Does she do that to you too? Always on about not working too hard?”

“Well…”

“It’s for your own good,” Astrid didn’t let me finish.

“Alright, mum,” Kirsten withered, but not unkindly, “Anyway, tatty bye darlings. Do something naughty for me, would you ever so kindly?”

And with that, she was out the door. 

“I’ll just be a minute!” Road Rash bellowed from down the stairs, “Penny should get ’ere soon, could you let ’er in?”

“Got it!” Astrid shouted back and turned to me, “It’s such a glamorous life this.”

I laughed, breaking a tension I found hard to name.

“It’s nice to meet your friends,” I attempted. 

“Rash is kin,” Astrid looked to the back door, “When I had nowhere to be, she plucked me out of a bar and gave me my first home in the city.”

I tried to imagine how hard that time must have been. 

I had been careful not to approach the topic of her childhood, and didn’t think now was the time either.

“And Kirsten,” Astrid sighed, “She’s a card. A sweetie. And a mean pro-domme.”

“Is that like a dominatrix? Did I hear she was doing it for… money?”

Astrid looked at me askance.

“Sorry. I mean. Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” I tried to correct quickly, embarrassed, “I just haven’t ever met… a pro-domme. It’s all still so new.”

Astrid sighed, “Sorry. I’m touchy about that. I forget sometimes you haven’t always been part of the tribe.”

I wasn’t sure how I was meant to take that. It stung and I felt even more insecure than I had moments prior. 

“Kirsten does scenes for clients who pay her,” she explained, “It’s a way for her to make money, but it’s also her way of life. She loves what she does. And this way, she can also pay rent. Fuck, if we could all have an income like that. You know how it is. It’s such a shit being a dyke and trying to keep any kind of remotely steady work.”

I was trying to think of what to say. 

Of course, I knew what it was to be a lesbian in England, even in the 2000s, and trying to get or keep a job. 

But I supposed I hadn’t really had to come up against it as much as some, in my little History department. 

Not that I was ”out” there.

“Cooo-eee,” a muffled call preceded a knock on the glass behind us. Astrid and I turned to see Penny, bundled up in a giant fuzzy purple overcoat waving through the window.

Astrid turned the bolt and pulled open the door. 

“It’s fucking freezing out there,” Penny stomped in with giant platform boots and dropped a sports bag not dissimilar to the one Kirsten had left with.

“Hello, darling,” she kissed Astrid’s cheeks after a brief hug.

“Penny, you remember Kitty?” Astrid nodded to me. 

I waved. 

“Of course, I do!” Penny enveloped me in a giant bear-hug. 

She peeled herself away and turned to Astrid.

“So, the rumours are true?”

Astrid nodded and Penny squee’d in a way that would have made Jane proud.

“Ooooooo fuck yes!” she punched Astrid’s arm, “I knew you could do it!”

“Ow!” Astrid rubbed her arm, “I should get you for that.”

I stared at the exchange. 

I didn’t want Astrid to ’get Penny for that.’ 

I was the one supposed to ’get it’ from Astrid. 

And as that thought crossed my mind, I was shocked at my jealousy. 

“So we’re the crack team of bar wenches, is that it?” Penny grabbed my arm and then Astrid’s to link us all together.

“We’re behind the bar,” Astrid extracted herself, “and you’re social-lubricating.”

“Got’cha,” Penny still held onto my arm, “Has Rash got anyone for the coat check?”

“She’s running behind!” came another bellow from below, “Penny, do get your caned arse down here and help me set up!”

“Ah, yes,” Penny released me and walked to the stairs, “Toodles ladies, see you in there.”

“We’d better get in as well,” Astrid shook her head at the disappearing Penny, “Plenty to set up in the bar.”

I was shell-shocked. 

“Are you alright, Kitty?”

“Yes,” I answered quickly, “Just a lot of people all at once. They all seem lovely. I guess I’m still nervous…”

“Of course,” she looked at me so softly and placed her arms over my shoulders, “We’ll be behind the bar for a while. I can tell you about everyone as they come in and you will be with me.”

I tried to give a reassuring smile. 

I wondered if it had just been nerves that made me feel so overwhelmed. I didn’t want to interrogate that thought too much, so I let myself be led into the back. 

“Oh, and Kitty,” Astrid stopped just inside the door, “You will call me Miss in here.”

“Yes, Miss,” I said, instantly more comfortable for the instruction. 

Astrid

I had to remember how new Kitty was.

Introducing her to Road Rash and Kirsten like that and then Penny being her usual self.

She must be overwhelmed.

That must be why she seemed so uncomfortable.

I led her down into the brightly-lit bar after dropping off our coats. 

“Alright, Kitty, this is our station.”

“Yes, Miss,” she replied, seeming more settled. 

I made a mental note that structure seemed to help her in anxious moments. 

“Check and make sure all the glasses are out of the washer and if there are any left, put them on the shelf,” I ordered, “If there are any spots, polish them with a cloth.”

“Yes, Miss,” she nodded curtly and got right to work. My heart eased as I watched her crouch down to the little washer under the counter. I hadn’t realised how nervous I was to bring her to Lips again. 

But what’s the difference between this time and last week?

Kitty was now my girl, that’s what.

Perhaps that’s why I had reacted to her seeming discomfort with Kirsten?

I decided that must have been it.

I looked around the bar and realised that with Kitty working, there was much less for me to do. 

Penny was already setting up the tables and rearranging chairs, showing off her striped-arse every time she bent over in her tiny dress. 

I snorted. 

“Everything alright, Miss?” Kitty asked behind me.

“Uh? Oh, yes. Just observing our wanton maid making a spectacle of herself.”

Kitty came to my side of the bar and leaned in close. 

“Oh, yes?”

I could see the concern in her expression.

“Sweetie? Are you worried I have a wandering eye?” 

Kitty blushed fiercely.

“Oh, Kitty,” I pulled her in closer, “I told you I’m a one girl Domme. Penny is rather distracting, which is her way. But believe me, I couldn’t possibly tame her.”

Kitty smiled shyly. 

“I’m not sure anyone could,” I added, “You on the other hand…”

I gripped the back of her hair, the side that had hair, and tugged. She gasped as I pulled her head back and looked into her widened eyes.

“…Yes, Miss…” she inhaled. 

I released her hair and stroked her cheek. 

Her mouth remained open and I had a desperate urge to throw her over the bar and fuck her brains out. 

I managed instead to place one finger on her lips.

“Later…”

“Yes, Miss,” she exhaled. 

“Good,” I let her go, “Feel better?”

She laughed and rubbed the back of her head. 

“Better. I suppose so, Miss.”

“Then back to it,” I grinned, “and glasses gleaming or I’ll fish out my wooden spoon.”

“Yes, Miss,” she replied quickly and got right back to work. 

The rest of the set up was smooth and quick. Kitty had to be shown some basics I was surprised she needed instruction in. It occurred, as I was showing her which knives would be better for the citrus, that Kitty hadn’t much experience in the kitchen or maybe in serving in general. 

But her desire to do everything right was undeniable and quite charming. 

Rash eventually walked through the bar, grumbling about needing to replace one of the straps on the whipping horse, before returning with an electric screwdriver. 

“You’re getting a real behind the scenes look, tonight, Kitty,”

She looked at me quizzically as she leaned on the bar next to me, “How so?”

“Well, what Rash said was true, this place is her baby. She pays for everything in here, including the rent. And as much as she manages to make in the shop, it doesn’t mean she’s swimming in money.”

I straightened up and stroked Kitty’s back, considering letting my hand wander down her arse. 

“So, all the furniture is second hand,” I said instead, “Or donated. Or made here on site. It makes for quite an eclectic DIY space. There’re other dungeons in the city which are fancier, but not ones we could afford to run a night at, let alone a weekly one.”

“It feels… homey,” Kitty looked up and smiled. 

I smiled back and slapped her arse without warning. 

Her yelp of surprise was satisfying and drew the attention of Penny. 

“Ooo, is Astrid treating you rough there, Kitty?” Penny asked Kitty cheerfully and then to me, 

“What did she do?”

“This one keeps forgetting my title,” I watched Kitty wince.

Penny tutted and shook her head solemnly, “Well, I’m sure you’ll set ’er right. Glad, you’re not my Mistress though.”

“I was just telling Kitty no-one could reign you in,” I stroked Kitty’s behind.

“Fucking right,” Penny slapped her own bottom demonstrably, “This arse ain’t for breaking.”

Kitty and I both laughed. 

I looked down at my giggling girl and felt such a warmth of pride mixed with delight of ownership. 

Or was it something else?

“I don’t know, I could give it a go,” Road Rash made a dramatic entrance back into the bar, waving her drill at Penny, “But right now, I got to get the doors open.”

Penny laughed cheekily, clearly undaunted at the prospect of being handled by Rash. 

I looked down at Kitty.

“How are you doing?”

“Okay, I think,” she said, “I’m sorry for forgetting your title, Miss.”

“No need to be sorry,” I stroked her bottom again, “I fixed it.”

She smiled and stood next to me as the first queers wandered in chatting in their different cliques and states of undress. 

I loved seeing the parade of pervs walk in like this. It made me feel immediately at home. 

I introduced Kitty to several clusters of lovers and play-partners. Kitty seemed eager to learn about everyone and was very gracious.

I introduced her to the terrible thrupple, the poly trio who had a tiered submission system. Kitty was chatting happily with the bottom of their pile, Angela, when Beth trotted up to relieve us.

“Excuse us Angela,” I interjected their conversation about collars, “I need to take this one into the dungeon.”

“Of course,” Angela stepped back respectfully.

“Come along, girl,” I grinned at Kitty. 

“Yes Miss?” Kitty asked as she handed her towel to Beth. 

“Since you’ve been such a helpful wench’s wench this evening, I thought you deserved a treat,” I stepped closer to her, “I recall you ticked ’yes’ to worshipping on your list, is that right?”

Kitty nodded warily, which made me smile all the more. 

“And to exhibitionism?”

“Yes, Miss,” she said cautiously and I couldn’t help giggling, which prompted an unsure smile from her. 

“Oh, sweetie,” I stroked her cheek and then gripped her chin, “I also saw that you said no to humiliation. Which is a good thing, because I don’t do that either. So, I promise, the idea is for you to show your devotion in a way that will make you feel proud to be mine.”

Kitty narrowed her eyes. Again, the urge to ravish her was quite overwhelming, but I wanted to give Kitty this experience.

“Come, then,” I let go of her chin reluctantly and led her into the playroom. 

The space was populated but not excessively so. There wasn’t a lot of loud play, which I was grateful for. Just a low hum of moans and slapping sounds. I took Kitty to the ornate wooden chair in the corner, a real find from the local charity shop, that had been a hell of a job to get into the basement. Once there, it had become the club’s throne. 

I sat on the plush cushion of its seat and leaned into its tall backrest. Kitty looked at me shyly, glancing around at other players. 

“Look at me.”

“Yes, Miss,” she stared at me with big round eyes. 

“You will focus on me,” I told her, “And you are going to worship my feet, my legs, and my thighs”

“Yes, Miss.”

“As you do, I want you to consider this thought, ‘I am Her good girl, I am Her proud and very good girl.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss,” Kitty shuffled her feet.

“I know it’s hard to say to yourself, even in your head. But that is why this, like so much of what I do with you, is good discipline.”

“Yes, Miss,” she cast her eyes down, folding her hands in front of her. I could see the flush on her cheeks even from where I was sitting.

“I am very proud of you,” I wanted to drill the point home, “And I will be proud of you worshipping me.”

“Yes, Miss,” her voice was softer and her bearing taller, even with her eyes lowered. 

“On your knees, girl.”

She hesitated, looking at me. 

I motioned my head downwards with a smile. 

She lowered herself to her knees and bowed her head. 

I almost gasped at how beautiful the sight was. 

I planned this experience to be for Kitty, not realising the impact it might have on me.  

“Uh,” I swallowed hard, ”Yes. When you kneel in the dungeon, you will do so exactly as you are right now, but with your hands and forearms flat on your thighs.”

“Yes, Miss,” she obeyed. 

I took her in, light headed, as my chest swelled. 

“Crawl to me,” I heard myself croak.

“Yes, Miss,” Kitty shuffled on her hands and knees to kneel before me. 

”You may caress my thighs,” I could barely manage a whisper.

She began to gently stroke my legs, her hands smooth against my skin. 

I had skipped my usual stockings for this. 

Wanting the connection. 

But I had still worn my high-heeled courts for what was to come. 

“You can get closer to them girl,” I leaned down to grip her chin, my mouth dry, but feeling more sure, “You can worship me with your face and you can worship me with your tongue as well.”

“Yes, Miss,” she sighed.

I watched her shoulders rise and fall, her breath heavy. 

“Then carry on,” I let go of her chin and leaned back again. 

Kitty nuzzled my calves with her cheeks and I held my breath as her tongue glided down the length of them, tentative at first but gaining confidence quickly. 

I let out a low rumbling moan as the muscles in my thighs and shoulders tightened. It became harder to remain still enough to allow Kitty to work. 

Fearing a loss of sanity or control, if she went on much longer, I leaned down and lifted her face off my leg, which was now slick from her saliva. 

“You…” I tried to catch my ragged breath, “You can also worship my feet. Would you like that, Kitty?”

She nodded, her eyes narrow and hungry. 

“Then you may kiss and lick them too.”

Kitty dropped from my hand to lay her head on my foot. 

I clawed back the ache to buck and squirm when her tongue slid over the leather of my shoe. 

I sucked on my dry lips and tried not to splutter a cough as she took the point of my heel into her mouth. 

I lifted my other foot and gently lowered it to lay on top of her head. 

Kitty moaned as she lapped more urgently and I thought I was going to cum right there. 

In my hazy mind, it occurred she might too, the way her arse swung back and forth. 

I raised my head, blissful and burning, before jerking my feet away from Kitty in shock. 

Kitty yelped but all I could do was stare at Sharon who had just strolled into my dungeon with a girl on her lead.