Chapter 2

Kitty

They felt like someone else’s dreams. Or maybe a mixture of thoughts and memories. A woman knelt in front of another towering over her. Someone else was blindfolded, pulled roughly by a leash and a handful of hair. 

Were they really all me? 

Or someones I’d seen at the club? Prostrate and moaning. Restrained and begging.

I recognised the collar they all wore. It was the same one still around my neck when I woke. But I didn’t recognise the smile in my dream. 

Was it mine? 

Or Her’s? 

Either way, that was the image that lingered as I opened my eyes. 

I rolled over carefully and looked at the peacefully sleeping Astrid, only pretending I wasn’t when she stirred.  

“Hhhhnnmmm,” Astrid formed a lazy smile as she blinked at me, “Hello there, Kitty.” 

“Good morning,” I smiled back.

“What time is it?” she yawned. 

I looked over her to the alarm clock.

“It’s 8.”

“Uh huh,” she nodded sleepily before pausing, “Do you think there might be something caffeinated in that kitchen I walked through last night?”

“I think we might be able to find something,” I chuckled, “This _is_ a student flat.”

“Excmellent,” Astrid rolled over her face to the edge of the bed and scrambled for clothes on the floor.

“Ah,” she came back up with a very crumpled shirt, “I don’t suppose you have an ironing board?”

“I don’t” I admitted, “but Tara might?”

“Okay,” she muttered, still half asleep but managing to find her humour, “Do you think you could help a lady out with a top just for now, so as to shade her modesty from wandering eyes?”

“I think I can come up with something,” I crawled over her with a giggle and a grunt to get to the closet. 

I offered Astrid a selection from which she chose an oversized t-shirt I’d been given at a conference the previous year. It was black with ‘Going Medieval’ stencilled on the front in white ornate letters. 

Astrid modelled it for me, hands on her hips. 

“I have been known to do that from time to time,” she reflected on the text, “but only with consent, of course.”

We ambled into the kitchen, Astrid in my t-shirt hanging to mid thigh, me in a vest and tracksuit trousers. Unlike a lot of student flats, we actually had food and some of it was even edible. And of course, there was copious amounts of tea. 

As I brewed some, we made small talk. I felt stiff in my banter, perhaps because of my significantly limited experience with mornings after. Despite how confirmed I was in my sexuality, I hadn’t much occasion to put it into practice. I wasn’t a virgin, but not that far from it. I’d been busy with my research... is what I would tell myself. 

By contrast, Astrid seemed so at ease it was intimidating. I was feeling shy about the wonderful night before, as well as my lingering dreams. I had no idea how to begin processing the latter, so as I put the tea pot on the table with the milk carton, I tried to casually ask, “So, Loose Lips, do you…” 

I stopped and laughed at myself.

“Do I go there often?” Astrid finished with a knowing smile. 

“Yeah,” I admitted, “I mean… was last night, a usual kind of night for you?” 

I was embarrassed by my gaucheness but Astrid smiled sweetly.

“I suppose so, other than going home with a lovely girl. That's not so usual for me,” she said as I poured tea for us both, “but otherwise, yes. I came home from work, showered, scrubbed off the daytime make-up, put on the nighttime make-up...”

She laughed at herself. 

“It’s such an inconvenience,” she took a mug gratefully, “but nothing as inconvenient as tying yourself into your own corset.”

I tried to imagine the feat.

“Well, there’s at least one thing more inconvenient. And that’s tying yourself into your own corset, realising you’re just not feeling it, taking it off, and tying yourself into _another_ corset all by yourself.”

I giggled and Astrid smiled at her own story and perhaps at me. My goodness, she was beautiful. 

“Once I finally managed that, I got to Lips early to set up with Penny as usual.”

Astrid leaned back and stretched as she spoke. I was distracted how my t-shirt pulled taut across her chest. 

“But you met Penny of course,” she leaned forward again, “Lips’s very own housemaid and social lubricator.”

I must have looked confused.

“It’s a self-chosen title,” she explained, “but to be fair it rather suits her, the naughty little minx.”

I sipped my tea, trying to seem casual and normal.

“And she was being quite the miscreant last night,” Astrid smiled as she looked down at her mug, “Poor thing was having trouble getting motivated to tidy before we opened, knackered from having worked hard all day.”

“So, I offered to turn her over my bar and tan her hide with a wooden spoon,” she laughed, looking back up at me, “and she said that wasn’t any kind of deterrent for her laziness!”

“I told her it was when I do it,” she winked, before looking worried, “Oh… uh, sorry, perhaps I shouldn’t talk about those kinds of things.”

“Um… no, I mean…uh… what do you mean?” I croaked, holding the warm mug up to my warm cheeks.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with talk of spanking and such.”

I hadn’t been uncomfortable at all. Quite the opposite. 

Astrid seemed so genuine and concerned.

“No, that’s fine,” I tried to reassure her, “I mean I’m interested. I mean, I’m interested in your evening. I mean, this was my first time in a BDSM space.” I tried to collect myself.

“But it was nice,” I said sincerely, “And I knew where I was going. It was… nice.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” she smiled warmly, “You were so cute, walking up to my bar with your collar all turned around,” 

Astrid regarded me, “You like wearing it? I notice you haven’t taken it off.”

“I… uh, well, I mean I forgot I was wearing it,” I stammered and raised a hand to touch the leather strap, “I hadn’t really thought about it, I suppose…”

As I was trying to pull together a less bumbling response, Jane plodded barefoot into the kitchen wearing a fluffy purple dressing gown, drying her hair with a matching towel.

“Oh!” Jane startled, “Didn’t realise anyone was in here.”

Jane’s expression shifted quickly from confusion to recognition.

“Ooooh!” she repeated, but now visibly excited, “Hi!”

Jane trotted over, tossed her towel on the counter, and extended her hand to Astrid.

“I’m Jane,” she beamed, “You’re from the club last night? Sorry about the hair.”

“No worries,” Astrid replied with an amiable smile and shook Jane’s hand, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Astrid”

Jane glanced back and forth between myself and Astrid enthusiastically, performing some sort of social calculation as to the best way to proceed. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she settled on, but all too clearly was desperate to do just that.

“Oh, you haven’t,” Astrid offered, “Please join us, Kitty made tea.”

“Hmmm?” Jane sat after retrieving a mug and filling it from the pot, “Kitty actually made tea?”

“Is that unusual,” Astrid asked. 

I wanted to sink into the ground. 

“Well…” I started.

“She barely has anything in the morning,” Jane spoke over me, “Usually she needs me to remind her to eat.”

Both turned to look at me.

“True,” I agreed reluctantly, “But since Astrid was here, I was trying to be hospitable.”

“You’re nothing if not hospitable,” Jane purred through a lascivious grin.

“Uh, anyway…” I mumbled.

“Oh, don’t fuss,” Jane rapped the back of my hand with her teaspoon. Astrid’s eyebrows raised.

“Now, Astrid, has Kitty at least offered you some toast or something?”

“Actually,” Astrid winced, “I’m going to be late for work, so I kind of have to head off.”

“Oh,” I tried to hide my disappointment, “Do you need anything?”

“You’re so sweet,” Astrid smiled warmly, “But no, thank you. I’ll just collect my things and head out.”

Astrid stood and so did I.

“That’s alright,” Astrid touched my cheek, “Finish your tea, I’ll be back.”

I sat and watched her walk into my bedroom. Jane looked at me wide-eyed over her tea-mug. 

“Don’t say anything,” I pleaded.

“She’s gorgeous!” she whispered, “Did you?”

I glared at her.

“Come on,” Jane was relentless, “I want to know everything.”

I ignored her. 

“Tell meeeeee…” she shoved my arm. 

Before I could tell her to give it a firm rest, Astrid stepped out of my room wearing her rumpled shirt and skirt, carrying her jacket and bag. 

I stood as she walked into the kitchen. She cocked her head to one side and smiled again.

“Thank you for the shirt, Kitty,” Astrid kissed me on the cheek, “I left it on the bed, but I do hate to leave this way.”

She took my hand and squeezed it.

“I have to get home to change and rush out again,” she lamented, “but I had a really good night, and…” 

Astrid lifted my hand and placed a folded piece of paper into it. 

“I’d love to carry on the conversation we were just having,” she looked right into me again as she closed my hand, the paper now tight in my fist.

“Yes,” I swallowed, “please.”

“Good,” she looked satisfied. 

“It was a pleasure to meet you too,” Astrid turned to Jane, before returning to me, “Have a lovely day Kitty and see you again soon I hope.” 

Astrid squeezed my hand once more before picking up her bag and walking to the door. I felt her absence immediately. 

I turned to Jane who was looking at me with a mixture of bemusement and pride, “Wow.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Well?” Jane insisted, “What does it say?”

“Um…” I unfolded the squared paper in my hand and read ‘Be a good girl and call me soon’ and beneath that a phone number. The edges of my lips curled. 

“It’s…” I sat back down at the table, “Um… It’s an invitation.”

“Oh, fuck you Kitty!” Jane slapped the table, causing the pot to rattle, “Tell me everything right this instant!”

“She’s the bartender from last night,” I chuckled, nervously.

“Yeeees…” Jane prodded, “And?!”

“We got to talking after you two ran off to the back.”

Jane had the decency to look guilty.

“Yes, look, I’m sorry about that. But right now we have the critical topic that you must immediately elaborate on in great, and hopefully graphic, detail.”

“Jane!” I couldn’t help laughing, “I don’t know what to say. We got talking when I was in the bar by myself.”

She winced again.

“We talked about a bunch of things,” I added noncommittally, “Like how it was my first time there, how we each came to live in the city, she likes the outdoors, that sort of thing.”

“Get to the good stuff! Were you at least flirting wildly the whole time?”

“I think I blushed a lot,” I admitted.

“You blushed!?” she paused, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that.” 

Jane craned her head to look at one side of my face and then the other.

“It’s not going to happen spontaneously,” I withered, “It’s just… I don’t know, the moment I was around her, I started to feel…”

“Like blushing?”

“Yeah,” I felt flush just talking about it, “Anyway, we talked until the end of the night. It was wonderful.”

“And then what?” Jane was rapt, elbows on the table, leaning her chin in both hands. 

“Well, we hung around a little more before coming back here.”

“Did you do anything kinky?” Jane raised a suggestive eyebrow. 

“I helped tidy up.”

“In a kinky way?”

“No!” I answered a little too forcefully, “I mean, I helped Astrid and Penny clean up the bar and after that, well, we… had a good time.”

“Yes!” Jane clapped me on the back, “Finally!”

“Okay,” I grumbled, “You were right, I’m glad I went.”

“Excellent!” Jane grinned like the Cheshire Cat, “So, when are you going to call her?”

“What?” I asked unconvincingly.

“The number she so clearly left on your ‘invitation.’ When are you going to call her? She’s at work now, so perhaps later this evening? What does she do anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” I realised.

“Oh Kitty, you didn’t even ask, did you?” Jane looked at me in horror, “Do you even know her last name?”

“Falk,” I was glad I at least knew that much, “I think she works in an office, she was wearing a suit.” 

“I noticed,” Jane said with a mischievous grin, “and I noticed just how creased it was, you naughty thing, you.”

I laughed despite myself and mercifully Jane limited her interrogation after that. She apologised more for having vanished with Tara but insisted they had been having a good time too. When she started describing the sling-action, I excused myself to get dressed. 

I walked into my room and surveyed the rumpled bed. I smiled again, but also felt a pang. 

I pulled my attention back to the piles of paper and groaned. I had a metric tonne of text to sort through, which was the kind of thing that tested my love of the subject. I looked at the dark computer screen and wondered if I should wait to call Astrid. If that was the right thing to do. The ‘cool’ thing to do. 

I wasn’t feeling ‘cool’ though. I wanted to call her immediately. I wanted to see her again as soon as possible. 

Embarrassed by myself, I rearranged the mess of my duvet and sat down on it. I put a hand where Astrid had been the night before and ran my fingertips over the ring of the collar I was still wearing. A shiver ran through me. 

I thought about taking the collar off but found I didn’t want to. I shook my head and decided I had to take it off. 

The leather came away and left the skin it had covered cold. I rubbed my neck and couldn’t shake a sense of loss. It was hard to say why and I was uncomfortable interrogating the thought any further. 

I laid the collar carefully on the bedside table and resolved to get on with the research. 

Perhaps it had been the previous night, but I found I was able to work in a way I hadn’t the day prior. I wrote through much of the day, only stopping when distracted by thoughts of Astrid or the collar sitting by my bed. The day had been exceptionally productive and it was nearly 6 by the time I emerged from my room to forage for food with a definite bounce in my step. 

Walking into the kitchen, I saw evidence of Jane and Tara’s lunch on the counter and Andy sitting at the table with a bowl of noodles, pouring over one of his giant art history books. He was wearing his casual tight t-shirt/jeans combination, his short hair neatly coiffed and subtly dyed blond, and perhaps the lightest blush to accentuate his pale pink cheeks. It was his uniform in every situation when he wasn’t at school or performing drag.

“Hello there, handsome,” Andy noticed me. 

“Darling dearest,” I responded in our usual form, “How goes the appreciation?”

“Swimmingly!” he orated grandly.

“Jolly good show,” I opened the fridge and peered in at my designated shelf, finding a lonely yoghurt pot staring back.

“So, I hear congratulations are in order,” Andy smirked as I retrieved a spoon from the drawer and leaned against the counter.

“Congratulations?”

“At getting your darling little end away,” Andy waggled a suggestive finger at my backside. 

“Can Jane keep nothing to herself?” I sighed.

“The people have a right to know,” Andy chided, “I heard she was tall, gorgeous, dominatrix or something?”

“No,” I replied a little too grumpily, “I just met her at the BDSM club our live-in lovebirds dragged me to last night. She’s the bartender.”

“Oh,” Andy deflated, before picking up again, “Well, you’re clearly more relaxed than I’ve seen you in ages. So kudos to your coupling.” 

I glared as I opened the yoghurt and took a spoonful, making sure my silence was a statement. 

“Soooo,” Andy continued regardless, “Will we be seeing Miss Lady-thing again any time soon? Can we expect to be introduced, as your family, to make sure she has only proper intentions and will keep you in the manner to which you’ve become accustomed? I mean, is she even a Christian for Jesus’s sake?!”

“I didn’t check her ecclesiastical credentials,” I laughed, “Forgive me father, for I have sinned.”

“You are forgiven,” Andy waved his hand in an expansive gesture and giggled.

“Well, fank buhfger for that,” I answered with a mouthful of yoghurt.

“Ugh, you are so uncouth, miss Baxter,” Andy grimaced, “I hope you won’t conduct yourself like that on your next rendezvous with this suitor or yours.”

“Who said she was a suitor,” I opened my yoghurt-filled mouth wide at him, “Or that there would be a next date?”

“You can’t fool me, young lady. You’re all kinds of into her. I can see it from here.”

“Well…” I started unconvincingly, “Okay. Sure. She was nice. But I hardly know her.”

“Hence, the second date.”

“I have her number,” I admitted.

“Then what exactly are you waiting for?” Andy stood, on a mission.

“It was only this morning, Andy. Maybe I should, you know, play it cool?”

“Oh, please!” he shooed me towards the communal phone, “You are a great many things, Katherine, but cool is not one of them.”

“Hey!” I offered paltry resistance to being moved.

“Now, do you have her number memorised already? Or was it written on the mirror with a big lipstick kiss next to it?”

“It’s here,” I retrieved the paper from my pocket. 

“Good then,” Andy prompted as we got to the little table in the corridor that featured the cordless phone.

“I’m not sure I’m ready,” I admitted.

“Oh darling,” Andy sighed sweetly, “I know. But you never are.”

I looked at him dubiously.

“So, hop to it, madam,” he commanded and turned with a flourish back into the kitchen. 

I watched him go and looked at the phone. A lump rose in my throat. I had been staring at the clock all day waiting for a reasonable time to call. But now it had come, I was paralysed. 

I picked up the receiver, heard the dial tone, and stared at the little paper.

“I don’t hear dialling!” Andy bellowed from the kitchen.

“Alright, already!” I shouted back and punched in the numbers. 

Astrid

I actually skipped down the steps of Kitty’s building. I woke up feeling wonderful. And Kitty had been so sweetly shy again. The chat with her flatmate had also been cheekily amusing. So much so, I’d been inspired to leave Kitty an equally cheeky message along with my phone number. 

Calling her a ‘good girl’ was innocuous enough_, I insisted to myself, _It didn’t need to be anything more. 

It could be vanilla.

It was vanilla.

It had been vanilla.

And sexy.

I sighed loudly as I waited for the bus, disturbing some of my fellow waiting passengers. I’d wanted to stay longer, perhaps even pick up where we left off the previous evening. But I’d stupidly agreed to do a Saturday shift to cover for what had become a very expensive month. 

Saturday shifts were shit too. 

Being a despatch rider wasn’t exactly my life’s calling but it was fine for making rent. Most weekdays were tolerable enough, picking up packages from one bored office worker and riding it an obscenely short distance to another bored office worker. Usually they didn’t even talk to me. Which suited me fine.

Saturdays on the other hand were more about the people who didn’t work Monday to Friday, and because of where our little agency was, that meant film and tv companies. And those were the worst. Every fucking thing had to be done immediately or preferably sooner, and it was always a matter of life and fucking death. 

I jogged into my flat and then the bedroom to change into a riding habit. Which was perhaps a grand name for a little black dress with a flared skater-skirt, but it was perfect for Ruby, my darling and ancient Vespa moped. Once dressed and brushed, I threw together a sandwich and went zipping to the office only twenty minutes late. 

As I rode up, my thoughts had turned again to Kitty. 

God, she was adorable. In her little dress at my bar. But also all dishevelled and morning-after-ey. And fuck, the sex had been…

“Hey late lady, what’cha smilin' about?” Lee shouted as I stepped off Ruby next to the office. She was leaning over her mountain bike in a vest that showed off her tattoos and golden-brown muscles. She had a fresh clipper-cut and a very smug look on her face. 

“Nothing,” I mumbled unconvincingly, “And I’m running behind, so…”

“Who was the girl?” Lee fired back as I ran up to the office to clock in and get a radio.

“Who said it was a girl?” I jogged back to my moped. 

“Astrid…”

“Okay, it’s a girl,” I straddled the scooter and put in my hands-free earphones, “but that’s all you’re getting.” 

“I’m just going to keep annoying you about this…” 

“I’m going now!” I kickstarted Ruby and rode off. 

I wasn’t a minute down the road before my phone rang. 

“So, tell me about the girl,” Lee’s voice crackled into my earphones as soon as I clicked ‘accept.’

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I hung up. 

I don’t know what it was about Lee’s chipper cajoling that started me worrying as I navigated the winding streets of Soho. 

I called Kitty a good girl in my note as well as the previous evening.

I never say that in a vanilla way. Why was I kidding myself? Fuck!

Was I so horny I could just forget that moments before I snogged her, I was going to walk out of the club alone?

Because I wasn’t ready.

It had been a long time since Anne. 

I still wasn’t okay. 

I still wasn’t ready to be fucking around, much less seeing somebody regularly. Or playing with anyone. 

And what the fuck was I doing being even tangentially Domme-ey with this girl?

It was because she was so damn cute!

Shit, I just want to hurl her to the ground, bind her head to toe, and do utterly awful th…

“Fuck!” I screamed as I almost ploughed into the side of a black cab that pulled out sharply in front of me.

“Why don’ you look wher’ th’ fuck yer going?!” the driver screamed through his open window. 

I was so shaken I didn’t even respond with a barrage of verbal abuse for the fucker who had clearly not looked or cared where he was going. He’d driven off before I could even give him both my middle fingers. 

What the fuck is wrong with me?!

Riding despatch in the city was always kind of hairy, but despite the concentration it took watching for cars, cyclists, buses and pedestrians, I was always confident I could manage.

Fuck, it was Kitty!

Fretting about her had fucking nearly gotten me flattened!

I’m not doing this, I decided, If she calls, I’ll call it off

“Fuck!” I punched Ruby’s handlebars and immediately regretted having done so because not only did it fucking hurt, it also made an awful crunching noise. 

Possibly damaging Ruby, nearly getting run over, and feeling wretchedly anxious and horny at the same time made the Saturday shift riding for over-privileged wankers even more intolerable. 

I was in a foul mood by the time I got home. I slammed the door as I went in and immediately regretted that too. 

Fuck, I need to get a hold of myself! This is not me!

I walked into the bathroom and the sight that greeted me in the mirror didn’t make me feel any better. 

I looked miserable, hair a mess, make-up smudged. 

I suddenly felt unaccountably sad. In a way I hadn’t in some time. 

I was still staring in the mirror when the mobile rang. 

Lee had given me a break after I told her I needed to focus on not getting run over, but I supposed it was too much to hope she’d leave me alone the whole evening.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Um, hi,” came the unfamiliar voice, “Astrid?”

“Yes?” I replied, confused. 

“It’s Kitty.”

Oh fuck…

“Ah,… um, Kitty,” I raised a hand to my forehead, not at all in the headspace for this, “Yes, hello.”

“I got your lovely message,” she said, apprehensively. 

Something shifted in my chest, but I still felt like I was coming down with a migraine.

“Oh yes,” I answered flatly, “Um, listen, about that…”

“Are you alright?”

I was surprised by her question. 

“Uh… Um… Well, not really. Sorry… Been a shit day.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Kitty’s nervousness dissolved into what seemed like genuine care, 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Uh… Well, no… Um, yes, I suppose,” I started, but then before thinking, added, “Just a really bad day at work. Too much crap from clients and I nearly got into an accident.”

“Oh shit!  Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” a sheepish smile crept up on me, “That is to say, yes, thank you for asking. Just some prat in a cab nearly hitting me.”

“How awful.”

“It’s okay,” I comforted her, “I’m fine, I promise. Just… rattled.”

“Of course.”

“I guess I was a bit distracted. I’d been reminded of some bad… times.” 

I stopped myself, shocked I had started to share any of that. 

“I’m really sorry to hear that,” Kitty said gently, “I don’t mean to pry, but if you want to talk about it, I can listen.”

“That’s… That’s very kind of you,” I tried to recover, “But it’s okay, just some old… scars.”

Fuck, why was I telling her any of this?!

“I’m sorry,” she said in a soothing tone and changed the subject, “I just wanted to ring and say how much I enjoyed last night.”

“Um, me too,” I replied, dazed. 

“And well,” she was shy again, “I was wondering if you might like to meet up again sometime soon?” 

“When?” I heard myself answer. 

“Oh! Uh,” she chuckled nervously and I thought I could actually hear her blush down the phone, “Well, I’m kind of flexible… Um… Tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I let slip out, but in some measure of clawing back control of myself added, “But maybe here this time? My place?”

Fuck! No! That’s a terrible idea! 

“Oh yes!” she exclaimed in a way that made it impossible to pull back my invitation, “I’d love to.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

“Where should I come?” she asked innocently.

“I’ve got the bed, but also the sofa I suppose, unless we use the kitchen table.”

WHAT THE ACTUAL LIVING FUCK AM I DOING?!

“Ah…” Kitty giggled, “yes… well… that all sounds...”

Despite my self-recrimination, her sweet shyness just spurred me on. 

“It’s alright, darling Kitty,” I said, with a tone of voice I recognised all too well, “I’ll be gentle.”

“Thank you,” came her adorable response, “What time should I be there?”

Her passive voice activated me. 

“Be here at 7, I’ll make us something to eat.”

“Yes,” she answered, and in my head I heard ‘Mistress.’ 

Fuck! This is not in the slightest okay, my brain finally started to reassert, but it was way too late. 

“I’ll be there,” Kitty said cheerily.

“Good,” I grit my teeth.

“Lovely,” she continued awkwardly, in a ‘I don’t really know when I should hang up’ kind of a way, 

“I’ll see you then?”

“Uh huh,” I muttered.

“Okay then… Um, bye… then,” Kitty found her way to conclude.

“Bye,” I managed.

The line went click.

I slumped onto the closed toilet seat and groaned loudly, my head firmly in my hands.