Chapter 18

Kitty

Astrid seemed in high spirits as we strolled along the now familiar street to the tattoo shop. 

As we drew close, I could see the storefront was lit up like the last time we were there. 

Astrid continued to tease me with what she had planned for us as I opened the jangling door for her.

“You want me to do what?” I heard Road Rash as I almost walked into the back of Astrid, who had stopped dead in front of me. 

“I want you to tattoo my sigil on her right hip, here,” a woman with her back to us said, and then slapped her companion’s backside.

It was hard to see them and to get a full view, I had to squeeze around Astrid, who seemed frozen to the spot. 

Two women were facing Road Rash, their backs turned to us. 

The one who had spoken was taller, but that might have been because of her heels, which towered and looked sharp. 

She wore a long leather skirt or dress, it was hard to tell from the back, because she was also wearing a long leather coat over it. 

Her platinum hair drawn into a high, tight, ponytail was pulled down the centre of her back and I only caught flashes of her pale face featuring plenty of dark purple make-up. 

The woman next to her shuffled in a short vinyl dress under a longer overcoat. I couldn’t see any stockings on her legs and her feet seemed exposed in short-heeled vinyl strappy shoes. 

My immediate thought was that she must have been freezing on her walk from the tube. 

Her dusty blonde hair was darker than her companion’s, and worn in a short pixie-cut. I couldn’t see her face, partly because it was turned towards Road Rash but also because it seemed to be angled downwards. 

I caught a hint of pink make-up accentuating a rosy cheek. The glint of a chain leash caught my eye, leading from a collar around her neck.

“And what does she think about it?” Road Rash asked. 

It was hard to tell what her tone was. Incredulous, angry, confused?

“She is ecstatic to have it,” the woman with the ponytail replied testily. 

“I need to hear it from her,” Road Rash crossed her arms, and it became clear she was not in the least pleased.

“You don’t need to hear it from her,” the woman bit back, “I speak for her, she’s mine.”

Road Rash squared up, raising herself even taller. 

“Listen very carefully, Sharon,” Road Rash grit and I was struck with the horrific realisation of who this was, “I’m tattooing no one who can’t, or won’t, speak for herself and tell me… no, fucking convince me… that this is something she really wants. So, either your girl speaks up and tells me herself, or you can fuck right off out of here.”

Sharon stood silent and so did her girl. 

The tension was palpable.  

“Go on then,” Sharon finally relented, and jerked the leash of her girl, “Tell her.”

Pixie-cut almost toppled from the unexpected wrench but composed herself quickly. 

She looked at Sharon and then to Road Rash.

“Um… yes.”

“You see,” Sharon crowed. 

Road Rash looked like she was going to explode. 

“You have two choices, Sharon,” she measured, “One, you can step outside while I talk to your girl, or two, you fuck off and never come back.”

As Sharon reeled, Road Rash turned to the woman on the leash and addressed her directly.

“You can stay whatever she decides and are welcome any time,” she said with a kindness that struck me, before turning back to Sharon and barking, “Well, what’s it going to be?”

Even from behind I could feel the seething coming off Sharon. 

“Fuck you, Pat,” she hissed, turned to the girl and pulled on the leash, “You’re coming with me.”

The woman looked to Road Rash and then Sharon before turning to follow to the door where Astrid and I stood. 

Sharon stopped in surprise on seeing us for the first time, but almost immediately squared her shoulders, yanked the leash, and barrelled forwards. 

Astrid pulled me aside to let them leave. Which they both did, Sharon slamming the door behind them.

Road Rash marched swiftly to the door and opened it again, “And good fucking riddance Sharon!” she shouted behind them, “And girl, you can come back any time at all!”

Road Rash closed the door and turned to us.

“Sorry about that. Are you alright?”

Astrid didn’t speak. 

I turned to look at her, her face unreadable. 

“Perhaps we could sit and have some tea or something?” I asked Road Rash, uncertain.

“Yeah,” she nodded curtly, “Let’s go in.”

We went down the stairs and into the bar which had yet to be set up. Road Rash pulled down some chairs for us at one of the tables and went for the kettle. Astrid and I sat.

“Are you okay, Miss?” I asked quietly.

She turned to look at me as if she was surprised I was there. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” she shook her head.

Road Rash joined us shortly with three mugs. 

“You two have history,” Road Rash didn’t mince words, “I heard about Anne.”

Astrid looked like she was going to throw up. 

“I’m sorry,” Road Rash continued regardless, looking to the stairs, “I never got the best feeling about that one, but she never did anything I thought warranted getting her arse flung out the door ‘till now.”

Astrid stared into the mug in front of her. 

I reached an arm around her but she flinched away. 

Road Rash looked back and forth between us concerned.

“I don’t know what went on between you two, and I didn’t feel I could ask, after you came back” she explained carefully, ”If you want to tell me, you can. Or not. You can know I’ll not be having her here again.”

Astrid didn’t move.

Road Rash looked at me.

I didn’t know what to say and looked at the ashen-faced Astrid. 

“Oi, oi!” came a cheery call behind us. 

I looked up to see Penny walking in all smiles, until spotting us, “Shit, what happened? Are you alright?”

Penny walked over and peered at Astrid.

“It’s alright,” Road Rash waved her down, “I had to throw out some rubbish.”

“Oh,” she looked back up the stairs, “Is that why I saw Sharon marching to the tube?” 

Penny stopped mid sentence, looked to Astrid, then to me, and then to Road Rash. 

“Well,” she said after a pause, “Good fucking riddance I say, I never liked Sharon.” 

I looked at her wide-eyed as she pulled up a chair, oblivious. 

“What?” she asked, seeming to notice something at least, “I didn’t like her. Moody little shit, always strutting around like she owned the place. Ordering me around like I was her underling.”

Astrid raised her gaze to Penny.

“Well, she did,” Penny continued, and then imitated a Sharon-voice, “Oi Penny, bring me a drink, Oi Penny, clean up the equipment, Oi Penny suck my cock, why don’t you.”

We all stared at her.

“You know,” she explained, “Her strap-on? That sad purple thing she used to wave around like it was god’s gift or some’at? I told her I wouldn’t even bother, and said she could stick it up her arse and fuck off while she did it.”

I looked at Astrid who stared ahead, through Penny. 

“Really I did,” Penny continued undeterred, “Though if she had, it would probably get lost up there, tight-arse that she is.”

“I can’t do this,” Astrid stood and sleepwalked towards the stairs. 

I looked to Road Rash and then to Penny, hoping they might give any indication of what to do. They looked as concerned and uncertain as I was. 

I jumped up and followed Astrid quickly up the stairs. 

“Miss!” I called after her.

“Miss?” I asked again, finding her in the tattoo shop standing by the door. 

She didn’t say anything at first. 

I stared at her back, unmoving. 

“Miss?” I repeated, more softly now, and walked to her side, craning my head to get a look at her face. 

Her expression was eerily neutral, staring into nowhere. 

I reached for her shoulder carefully. 

“Miss, do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Miss,” I tried to think of what to say, “Maybe we should go somewhere? And talk?”

She turned to me, “No girl, we said we would work behind the bar.”

“I really don’t think…” 

“We said we would,” she cut me off, and started to walk to the back. 

I caught her arm and she spun to glare at me, affronted.

“I’m sorry,” I let go, but then resolved to be firm, “No, I’m not, you’re in no state to go down there. We need to go home… now… Miss.”

She looked at me like I was some incomprehensible thing, popped up out of the floor or something. 

“Miss… I insist,” I mustered up all of my courage. 

“You insist?” she seemed to snap out of something, at least partially. 

“I…do,” I rallied, “Maybe I am really misbehaving, and if so… well, you can cane me later… but we need to go home. Now, Miss.”

She stared, and for a moment I thought she might scream at me. 

“Could you… tell Rash?”

“Of course,” I answered her whisper and jogged back down the stairs. 

I tried to convey everything to Road Rash and Penny, who said they understood, and I should absolutely take her home.

“Y’er a good girl, Kitty,” Road Rash said, “I’m glad you came into my club.”

I got the feeling that was high praise from Road Rash. 

I nodded to her and Penny, and quickly rejoined Astrid. We walked back the way we came to the bus stop and rode home in silence. 

It was scary sitting with her so quiet.

Flashes of thoughts kept threatening to invade. 

Was she still in love with Anne? 

Was she going to dump me?

I got her into her flat and sat her on the sofa.

“I’ll get us tea, Miss?” I suggested the cure-all. 

She nodded, finally looking at me, near to bursting in one way or another. 

“Yes, Miss,” I curtseyed, and went about it as quick as I could. 

I returned with two mugs to see Astrid sitting with her head buried in her hands. 

“I can’t do this, Kitty,” she said, and my blood ran cold. 

Astrid

Suddenly there was Sharon, standing right in front of me. 

With Anne. 

At least I thought it was Anne at first. 

She used to wear her hair short like that, though longer at the front. And Anne was taller. I had no idea who this girl was. 

I couldn’t understand what they were saying at first, it just sounded like a loud hum. 

I stared at Sharon’s coat. 

It looked new. 

Or at least not worn in. 

Sharon snarled something and turned with her girl in tow and stopped in front of me. 

And then she was past us and out the door. 

Somehow we got down the stairs and Kitty was talking to Road Rash. Then Penny was there. I had managed to tune in a little to their conversation at that point, but I just… couldn’t. 

I was up the stairs and trying to see the other side of the road past the lights of Rash’s store front when Kitty caught my attention. 

I told her we couldn’t go home as we promised to tend bar but she had put her foot down and insisted.

At first, I couldn’t comprehend her.

But somewhere I knew she was right. 

I wanted to thank her. 

I wanted to tell her off. 

I wanted to run and hide. 

I couldn’t find the words on the bus. Nor when we got in. 

Kitty went for tea and I slumped on the sofa, staring at the floor. I noticed more cracks I had no way of repairing. 

A thought entered my distracted mind. 

I had fucked up again. 

Again!

I had completely lost it. 

Just at the mere sight of Sharon. 

I couldn’t be anyone’s Mistress. 

Not like this. 

What the hell was Kitty even doing with me? 

I couldn’t do this. 

“I can’t do this, Kitty,” I heard myself say as Kitty walked in with our mugs. 

She looked stunned, scared even. 

Which made it worse. 

But I was in free fall and I didn’t know what else to say or do. 

“I’m… I’m sorry,” was all I could manage. 

Kitty’s expression shifted. 

“Please don’t apologise, Miss,” she knelt down in front of me and put the tea on the table, “You don’t need to say sorry.”

“But I do,” I wailed, “I can’t take care of you like this.”

She laid her hands on my knees.

“You don’t need to, Miss.”

“I do!” I retorted, “That’s my job. That’s a Mistress’ job.”

She looked up at me and my heart wrenched. 

“Mistress,” she tested, “what were you going to do with me tonight?”

“I’m sorry?” I asked, confused by the question.

“What were you going to do with me tonight, Miss?” she asked again, “Could you do it with me now?”

“I… I don’t understand,” I mustered, at a loss. 

“I don’t know what you had in mind, but maybe you would like to do it now, Miss?” Kitty stroked my knees gently, “It might make you feel better?”

I looked at her, staring back up at me so earnestly. 

I was numb all over but her suggestion touched me. 

But I couldn’t.

“I was going to tie you up.”

“With ropes, Miss?”

I nodded. 

“Would you like to do that now, Miss?”

I nodded again and felt ridiculous as I did. 

This was ridiculous. 

I was ridiculous. 

But before I could verbalise it, Kitty was on her feet and fetching the bag I had dropped by the door. 

She returned with it and knelt down in front of me again. 

“Should I kneel here, Miss?” she asked.

I nodded, not sure if I would meltdown, cry, or run out the flat.

“Very good, Miss,” she said simply, “May I open the bag for you?”

“No,” I answered automatically, “I do that.”

She withdrew respectfully, making way so I could reach down and pull the bag onto the sofa next to me. 

I unzipped it and gently brought out the bundles of soft red rope I had packed that afternoon. 

I lay them in my lap and looked back at Kitty who was kneeling patiently. 

I reached down and gently took Kitty’s wrists and began to wrap a length around them. I drew the rope into cuffs, leaving space enough so as not to stifle any blood flow. 

It would have been hypnotic, if I wasn’t so clear and focused. Quite the opposite from just moments prior. 

I finished the cuffs, carefully tying off the ends, making the binding neat and presentable. 

I let go of Kitty’s wrists, sat back, and stared at my creation. 

Kitty hadn’t moved her arms and rather held them aloft, presented to me. 

I looked into her eyes and then down to her wrists again. 

For our time at Lips, I had a whole elaborate tie in mind. 

I was going to give her a rope harness at first. And if she liked that, I planned to bind her wrists and ankles too. 

I was going to have her helpless at my feet. 

I was going to toy with her. 

Tease her. 

And make her beg to come. 

Instead, I put her in rope cuffs. 

The simplest binding I knew. 

The first one I learned. 

Even before I met Alexis. 

I looked at Kitty again and I didn’t want to do anything more with her. I just wanted to look at her, arms outstretched and bound. 

I was madly in love with her. 

Not a little bit. 

I had told her I loved her. 

I had meant it but I had tried to ignore it since. 

I had not wanted to think about it. 

How much I loved her. 

And there she was, kneeling in front of me, when I was my very worst, offering to be bound. To make me feel better. 

It was undeniable. 

Kitty was undeniable.