Chapter 8

Kitty

Very slowly, my consciousness faded back in. I went to rub my blurry eyes only to find my wrists still bound. I looked down at them and then to Astrid. Her eyes were shut. 

I tested pulling my wrists apart, finding the cuffs sturdy and very able to resist my efforts. 

It was comforting. Like I was held and secure. 

I studied the cuffs, twisting my wrists within them. Each was a soft black leather strap held in place with a buckle and metal rings, clipped together with a carabiner, like the kind you might use for climbing.

I turned to Astrid looking at me with tired eyes and an easy smile. 

“Want to be let loose?”

I looked down at my wrists and then back to her.

“No thank you, Miss.”

A unabashed grin spread across her face.  

“Oh, my dear goddess above,” she looked to the ceiling before turning to face me again, “Alright then, fine, you can stay trussed.”

“Thank you, Miss,” I ventured, lowering my gaze as demurely as I could.

Astrid pursed her lips. 

“Careful now, darling,” she warned playfully, “That kind of cheek might have consequences.”

I burst out laughing and so did she. 

We cuddled, dozed, and spent the rest of the morning lazily in bed. We talked more about the arrangement Astrid was proposing. She kept checking in to see if it was what I really wanted. Astrid reiterated that what she wanted was for me to basically always follow her instructions, whether I was with her or not. That included standing orders on certain things to do when I was home or out, as well as generally taking care of myself. 

I said that would probably make me healthier and she said that was exactly the point. 

She repeated that nothing would be beyond what I could handle, and her orders would be quite mundane at times. 

She said that sometimes however, she would want to put me in ’high protocol.’ She described it as a sort of ’formal wear’ of kink, in which I was expected to behave in a very specific way. I didn’t quite understand what that could be, but she promised to explain everything in due time. I found myself wanting to experience it sooner rather than later. 

And otherwise, she said we would discuss our limits and renegotiate anything that came up. Which she insisted was likely to happen quite a bit at the beginning, as we started to explore. She planned to show me ’a bit of everything,’ so I could get an idea of what was out there, and also to learn how I responded. 

I agreed to it all. 

Nonetheless, she insisted I take time to think about it more. She suggested we meet early in the week and I could tell her if I still wanted to go ahead. 

I tried to say that wasn’t necessary, but she told me not to argue with this order. She said that if we were going to do this, she would always want to hear my opinion and wishes, but I needed to accept when she made a decision. 

She also said that she quite liked my cheek, but to always remember who’s boss. 

I saluted her, which made her laugh before telling me never to do that again. 

”Yes, Miss,” I conceded and wondered if I would ever be so bold as to test her on that.

”I do think we need to get out of bed at some point,” Astrid lamented, ”We are both quite sticky.”

I blushed which made Astrid laugh again. She hopped up and beckoned me into the small bathroom, where I noted a considerable amount of the tile was cracked. Otherwise, like the rest of her flat, it was sparsely tidy. The space was cramped, the simple white porcelain toilet close to a matching sink, but despite the room’s size, it still managed to accommodate a bathtub. 

”In you get.”

”Yes, Miss.”

”Oh, but collar first,” Astrid held out her hand before I could make a move to get in 

the tub. 

I felt a familiar pang of reluctance to part with the collar as I unbuckled the clasp and handed it to her. 

She smiled and motioned to the bath again before turning to face the sink. I climbed in, reeling from the frigid sides and turned the two taps, which inspired an ecstatic dance to avoid the water as I tried to find an even mix between scalding hot and freezing cold.  

Once, I had cracked the right combination of tap turns, the warm water became welcoming. I lay down in it, and sighed. Despite how pleasant it was, the heat felt odd against my neck where the collar had sat overnight again. 

It was just… absent. 

I considered that as I tried to scrub myself to a presentable level. 

The far end of the tub presented a selection of brightly coloured bottles. As I scanned them for body wash, I noticed that like some of the tile, the seal around the tub was quite badly cracked. I reflected again how odd it was that Astrid would be so fastidious about her space and yet some parts of it would be in such disrepair. 

I unplugged the tub, letting the water drain with a deep gurgle. Astrid turned to show me my collar, the leather polished to a shine. I got out and dried off, remarking on how nice it looked. 

“You take care of leather and it will take care of you,” she turned me round to buckle it back in place.

“My turn,” she smiled once she was done and climbed into the tub. 

”Would you hold the shower?” she asked when I had moved to use the sink. I turned back to Astrid who was holding a shower head hung on the end of a worn beige rubber hose. She began to attach the split ends of it, which looked like the ear-bits of a stethoscope, to the two taps. I noticed there was nowhere on the wall to hang the shower. 

”Oh! I mean, yes Miss,” I accepted the now attached shower head and held it above her as she quickly found a satisfactory temperature with the taps. 

I watched as she deliberately caressed, wiped, and rubbed soaps into her skin and hair. My arms began to ache from holding the steaming shower aloft but at the same time, but I was struck by how intimate the scene was, watching on as she bathed with a sweet smile on her face. 

Astrid finished washing and I ran the water over her..

When rinsed to her satisfaction, she had me bring her a towel and I watched her dry and wrap her unpinned hair. Adorned in her robe again, she caressed my face, kissed me softly, and whispered, “Thank you good girl, that was lovely.”

We got dressed in her bedroom and she asked if I wanted to wear the t-shirt and running trousers home, rather than the dress I came in. 

I accepted gratefully. 

Astrid put on what looked like a 50s-style light blue dress with a pinched waist and a flared skirt. I considered that perhaps for her, this was a casual look. 

I sat on the bed and watched her arrange her hair and apply make-up. It felt like another kind of intimacy, to get to see her do this. 

She smiled at me in the mirror, as we talked about the coming week. 

She asked how I was going to be working and I admitted I had a deadline looming. She instructed me to not over-work and I promised not to. 

As she finished her look, we agreed to meet Tuesday afternoon and talk about our relationship. She asked me to think carefully about everything we discussed. If I was still interested, she would present me the list she had mentioned as well as a draft of an agreement that we had been negotiating so far. She told me it was a common practice for these kinds of relationships; a contract of sorts. 

It sounded terribly official, but she assured me it wasn’t and to that point, promised to draw red hearts on it in marker pen.

I asked if we could go to Loose Lips again on Friday and she said we could, but that she might have to work the bar for a while at least. She mused that it might be a nice opportunity for me to serve with her. She smiled wickedly at that and I laughed nervously, which made her guffaw. 

As the afternoon turned to dusk, we agreed I really should get going. She thought my flatmates must be wondering where I was and I should get to work for my deadline and also get to reflecting on everything. I agreed reluctantly and she reminded me that we would see each other soon. 

“Do you want to keep this on?” she touched my collar ring as she helped me on with my coat, “or maybe it would lead to too many questions?”

“Sadly, I think maybe so,” I nodded, “But I could wear it for now, Miss?”

“Wear it home if you’re comfortable to,” she wrapped my scarf carefully to conceal it, “and you can wear it any time you want if it feels good to.”

“Yes, Miss,” I answered, touched by the instruction.

“I know you found the collar,” she said shyly, “but how about we say that it’s mine now? That way you’re wearing my collar?”

“I would like that very much,” I felt a swell in my chest and quickly added, “Miss.”

“Good girl,” she stroked my cheek, “Then that is now my collar and I allow you to wear it. You don’t have to wear it when we meet Tuesday for coffee. But you can if you want to.”

I nodded and she gave my coat lapels one last stroke.

“Looking very respectable,” she winked.

“Thank you, Miss,” I grimaced.

She laughed, “Oh, it’s a good thing I like your cheek.” And to emphasise the point she tapped me lightly on the side of my face. 

“Now, you really had better go, before I decide I have to ravish you again.”

I opened my mouth to suggest I stay.

“No, I have things I need to do too,” she kissed me briefly, “Until Tuesday and you can always call if you feel drop, or just want to talk.”

“Yes, Miss,” I said, disappointed, “I’m looking forward to it.”

She smiled warmly, “So am I.”

The bus was sparsely populated for an early Saturday evening. I sat near the back and stared out the misted window as we pulled away.

I was spanked last night

On the bare arse and everything.

And I felt good afterwards. 

And I felt even better now that I was Astrid’s submissive. 

Her submissive. 

The concept sat easily. 

And comfortably. 

I thought perhaps I should be processing it more as the bus pulled up to my stop, but I was too happy staying in the blissful glow. 

I jogged to our building and up the stairs to our front door. 

Opening it, I was met by a chorus of laughing and chattering coming from the kitchen. It was certainly Jane, Tara and Andy. 

Perhaps they were having dinner or about to head out?

The conversation stopped and all heads turned towards me as I stepped into the kitchen, a perfect horror-movie/sitcom moment.  

“Katherine Olivia Baxter!” Jane bellowed in mock affront, “What time do you call this, young lady?! You should be ashamed of yourself!”

Jane and Andy were sitting at the kitchen table, wine glasses in hand. Tara stood by the counter opening a big bag of crisps. I stood paralysed in the doorway trying not to laugh nervously or blush. 

Andy fluttered his eyelashes, “What darling Jane is getting at is, did you have a lovely time? And could you please come here and tell us all about it, so we can live vicariously through your exploits?”

“Ah…” I reached a hand to the scarf that was still hiding Astrid’s collar, “Okay… just let me take off my coat and come join you.”

I moved to walk past them to my room but Jane was too astute. 

“Why do we think Kitty doesn’t just take off her coat here or by the door?” she mused out loud.

I blushed bright red as I continued to my room, “It’s nothing, I just want to get a bottle from my room and I’ll join you.”

“I am unconvinced!” Jane shouted out behind me as I walked quickly into my room and tossed aside the coat and scarf and unbuckled the collar. 

I just couldn’t handle their questions just then. 

I laid it on the bedside table and quickly changed out of Astrid’s clothes. I found the Beaujolais I had stashed in my closet and quickly returned to the kitchen, trying not to feel guilty. 

The murmured conversations stopped again and Jane started in on me immediately as I collected a glass.

“Well, no hickeys I can see from here, so it can’t have been that,” she peered at me as I sat down.

“Oh, leave her alone,” Andy defended me and I was grateful for the save before he set in with his own theory, “I think she was wearing just her underwear under that coat, having had her dress ripped off during her night of passion.”

“Ignore them,” Tara joined us at the table, “You don’t have to tell us anything, if you don’t want to.”

Tara really was lovely and I appreciated her calm sensibility, especially just then.

“I stayed with Astrid last night,” I conceded, “We had a really good time and that’s all.”

“I knew it!” Jane exclaimed, banging the table for emphasis, almost sending everyone’s wine flying, “So how was it?! Did she do naughty things to you?”

“Take it easy Jane,” Tara admonished gently.

“Certainly,” Andy agreed, “but I think in this instance the public has a right to know.”

“I’m not sure they do,” I blushed fiercely.

Jane pouted and Tara nodded.

“But,” I added, actually feeling kind of proud too, “I’ll be seeing her again on Tuesday.”

Andy grinned.

“I am infuriated with you!” Jane was relentless, ”I insist you tell us everything. And we will have to meet her of course.”

I almost spat out my wine, causing Jane and Andy to giggle and Tara to shake her head and sigh.

“Oh, this is intolerable,” Andy managed to get out, “You must tell us something.”

“I don’t know what to say,” I was backed into a corner, “I really like her and she seems to feel the same… In fact, she would like to spend a lot more time together and we’re trying to figure out what that might mean.”

“Woah,” Jane said more soberly, “It actually is getting serious?”

“I guess,” I answered honestly, feeling like I was able to sidestep the rest of her line of questioning at least, “She said I should think about it and we could meet up on Tuesday and work it out.”

Jane’s nose creased.

“That sounds good,” Andy raised his glass, “I’m happy for you.”

Tara nodded sagely. 

“She told you to think about it?” Jane seemed to realise there was more to it. 

“Yeah,” I answered quickly, “You know… lesbians… I guess we move fast, but she wanted me to take some time and we would meet up to talk about it.”

I was sure I was entirely unconvincing, but thankfully it didn’t lead to further interrogation. 

Tara started to talk instead about the party she wanted us all to go to at the Student Union, which led to a spirited debate about whether we were too old for that sort of thing. 

Andy insisted we were just as capable of going to a naff disco and getting plastered on cheap vodka as any student. When the conversation turned to recounts of prior drunk escapades, I was able to excuse myself. 

Exhausted, I crashed onto the bed, still fully dressed and in no mood to get up and brush my teeth or do anything else other than pass out. 

Astrid

“I’m taking Kitty on,” I said, ladling jam onto the scone and trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Wait,” Jen set her tea cup down, “What?”

“I’m taking Kitty on as my submissive,” I repeated, my cool quickly breaking into a grimace of insecurity.

“Fucking nice!” Jen boomed and several heads turned in our direction.

“Is it?” I whispered, trying to ignore the tuts from our fellow tearoom patrons. 

“Of course it fucking is,” Jen, no longer hollered, “So much for snail pace then?”

“Well, yes…”

“Then I’m especially proud of you,” Jen sat back in her rustling floral frock and raised her cup in salute. 

“But what if I'm really fucking this up?” I groaned, “We only just met and she’s never done anything like this before. I mean, I spanked her for the first time Friday and the next morning we’re negotiating 24/7.”

“You do work fast,” Jen nodded.

“Leave it out,” I propped my elbows on the table and sank my face into my hands, “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Oh for bugger's sake Astrid,” Jen sighed heavily, “Will you get over yourself? You like the girl, she likes you. You spanked her, she loved it. You bossed her around and she asked for more. It’s a tale as old as time. Put a collar on her and be done with it.”

“I already did,” I mumbled, my face smooshed firmly in my hands. 

“Wow,” Jen was for once at a loss for words.

“Yeah,” I continued, “A nice leather one with a ring.”

“A classic. I like it,” Jen regained her composure and reached for the clotted cream, “I prefer something silvery myself, or a posture collar. I don’t suppose it’s a posture collar?”

“Nope, one she found at a car boot sale,” I lifted my face out of my hands and picked up my jam-laden scone, hoping the sugar would provide some clarity into my own depravity.

“I will have to ask her where this car boot sale is,” she considered, “When you introduce us, of course.”

I looked at her sceptically, imagining the disaster such a meeting could be. 

“You will be bringing her to dinner with Mum and Dad?” 

I opened my mouth to protest but Jen was insistent, “You will though. If you really have taken her on?” 

I nodded.

”She can come to dinner next week, then.”

“Yes Ma’am,” I tried to drip sarcasm.

“Good girl,” Jen teased through pursed lips, “Now stop hogging the jam, I want to stack this little fucker high before I stick it in my gob.”

The rest of our tea-time involved Jen grilling me on how I was planning to train Kitty. I managed to fend her off with generalities but as I headed home, I wondered exactly how I would train her. It really had been a long time since I had a girl. I tried not to think about why as I walked down the steps to my flat. 

But what if Kitty had changed her mind? 

The thought stopped me cold as I stood in front of my door, key in hand. Just the notion felt utterly awful. 

I finally opened the door, hung up my coat inside, and looked around the living room, trying to decide what to do. 

I considered calling Kitty, but that felt desperate or imposing. 

I had just been talking with Jen and I figured if I shared this with her, she would just shout at me or something. 

Fuck!

I was in a spiral. 

Jen wouldn’t shout. 

She would say something off-colour and then tell me to let it go and trust it would be alright. 

It was impossible to trust it would be alright though. I had my heart wrecked by a submissive before. 

Was I thinking of Kitty that way? 

A heart-breaker? 

I couldn’t deal with this. 

I needed to put on my Mistress-mode and just accept this was going to be okay. And do my bloody homework for Tuesday. 

I put the tea on and planted myself at the kitchen table and wrote out a contract and a quick yes/no/maybe list. Somewhat satisfied by my efforts, I felt calmer and managed to get through the rest of the afternoon without ruminating too much. 

The next day, however, it all came back with a vengeance, so I threw myself into work and flew around the city like a demon, delivering, machine. 

I distracted myself by stopping by First Out before I went home. It had been ages since I was there last, but the place never seemed to change. The upper floor café was cozy and calm, and the lower floor boomed with music for a small party of queers. I chose upstairs and chatted with a few of the regulars at one of the shabby wooden tables near the window. Everyone I spoke to remarked on how long it had been since they saw me anywhere on the scene. 

It was true. 

I hadn’t gone out much other than to Lips since Anne. When I started to spiral into those thoughts again, I said my goodbyes.

The next day, my rumination was replaced with nerves. 

I ran through my deliveries at record speed again and was home with plenty of time to get changed and worry more. 

It took ages to figure out what to wear as a result. 

With shirts and skirts flung around the bedroom, I finally settled on my grey suit. Whether she accepted me or not, the sombre colour and strict lines would match either outcome. I even opted for the armour of a corset underneath. It made me sit up straighter on the bus, which despite the crowd, thankfully had an empty seat for me. 

I hopped off with a gaggle of other passengers into the grey Shoreditch afternoon, and found my way to the café I had suggested to Kitty. It wasn’t far from Rash’s shop, which provided a quick enough getaway too, if I needed it. 

As I walked up, I could see through the floor to ceiling windows that Kitty, in what looked like a plain blue long-sleeved top, was already seated at a table with a cup of tea in front of her. 

I sucked in my breath, and walked in and up to her table. As I got close, I saw she was wearing my collar. 

I could have cried. 

She noticed me, smiled, and stood. 

“Hi,” she said with a little wave, and looked embarrassed. 

“Hi yourself,” I answered, “You got here early?”

“Yeah,” she rubbed the back of her head with one hand, “I suppose so. Do you want me to get you anything?”

“A tea would be lovely.”

She smiled and skipped up to the bar. I watched her go, and realised I was shaking. 

I sat in the little metal chair and looked out the window at the hipsters walking by and tried to calm myself. 

Kitty drew my attention back into the cafe by returning with a tray full of an over-sized cup, a small canister of hot water, a dish of tea bags, and a tiny jug of milk. 

She set them down in front of me and proceeded to pour. 

I watched her silently, the simple joy of watching her serving me. 

She finished and set aside the tray on another table before sitting down. I took the steaming cup gratefully and sipped. 

“Is it alright?” 

“Perfect,” I replied earnestly. 

“I’m glad,” she beamed, “I hope you had a good day?”

I said that I had, not mentioning the anxiety, and we briefly talked of our time since she had been at my place. 

he said she had been writing up a storm, which sounded good but I got the impression she worked very late into the nights. I made a mental note to ask about how she slept. I told her I had been busy at work and preparing things for today. 

“I understand,” she said, “About that, um… I’ve been thinking a lot.”

“Oh, yes?” I straightened in my chair, even more than my corset had already encouraged me to.

“Yes. And well, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. I mean… how I’ve been feeling.”

She was stumbling with her words and I wanted to help her out, but I also needed her to come to it herself. So, I nodded, silently encouraging her to continue. 

“It felt so good,” she managed, “To be with you… and to have you be, well, you.” 

“Go ahead, Kitty,” my resolve to not chip in crumbled, “You can say it.”

“Thank you,” Kitty swallowed and leaned forward, “My mind hasn’t changed. So, I guess… If you will have me, I would really like that.”

“To be my submissive?” I asked, aching to hear her say it.

“Yes, Miss,” she whispered, “Please.”

I grew an inch in my seat. 

“I’m very glad,” I took hold of her hands resting on the table, “Then that is what we will do.”

She beamed a smile that made my heart melt.

“You are so darling,” I shook my head. 

We sat like that for a moment, before I broke the spell, “And in that case, we have a little business, you and I.”

She straightened up in her seat, attentive. I liked that look on her a lot. 

I took my hands away reluctantly to reach down to my handbag and retrieved the papers and fountain pen.

“I want you to look through this,” I handed her the contract, “And ask any questions you have.”

I placed the pen in front of her.

“And if you’re happy with it, I want you to sign on the bottom.”

“Yes, Miss,” Kitty said absent-mindedly, already reading the contract. 

I picked up my tea to wait, holding my breath ever so slightly. I watched her eyes dart back and forth over the page, and wondered what she must be thinking. It was a simple contract. One I hoped communicated my duty of care and responsibility.

“I think I understand everything,” she said, placing the page in front of her.

“Then tell me, what does it say?”

She swallowed and paused.

“I have to do what you tell me to,” she said, “But you wouldn’t do that in a way that hurts me. In fact, you promise to take great care and your goal is for me to be well and grow. I have to follow the prime directive and can stop any time I need to. I am to serve you and behave responsibly and respectfully. If I break the rules, you will punish me. And that you will smack my bottom regularly to make sure it doesn’t come to that.” 

I winced, “That’s all right, but could you please not call it smacking your bottom.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she worried, “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“No,” I tried to smile, “You didn’t know. It’s just I don’t like the phrase. It’s…”

I paused and considered what I would say.

“It’s just I prefer you call it something else,” I said, “Spanking, arse-slapping, a good hiding...”

She laughed and broke the tension. 

“But yes, it sounds like you got the picture,” I concluded, “So… if you’re happy with that, you can sign your name there.”

I pointed to the line I had placed at the bottom of the page and she uncapped the pen and signed with a practised flourish. I was surprised, given how writing with a fountain pen seemed like something of a lost art. The school I had gone to had insisted on it, so it was the only way I had written for years. Despite my hatred for that fucking place, I kept some of what they instilled in me, including an affection for good penmanship. 

She finished and blew gently on the ink before capping the pen and handing it to me with the 

page. I took it and signed my name next to hers and handed the contract back. 

“For me?”

“It’s for your benefit. To remember what you’ve agreed to do. I don’t need a copy. I know what it says.”

She nodded and took the page gently and set it to one side next to her. 

“Well,” I laid my hands on the table, feeling a little heady, “Then you are now officially my girl.”

Kitty smiled and blushed. 

”Adorable,” I couldn’t help grin. 

“So… uh…” 

“It’s okay,” I laughed, “I told you I would train you. You don’t have to worry about what you should do. That’s my job.”

She seemed to relax. 

“Speaking of which,” I retrieved the list from my bag, “I promised you this.”

She took the pages and started to leaf through them. 

“It’s not a long list,” I said, “I don’t want to overwhelm you to begin with, but I do want to get a sense of your limits.”

I laid the pen in front of her again. 

“And next to some of them, I have written my own limits,” I added, “So you know where I stand.”

She laid the paper down and picked up the pen again. She reminded me of a schoolgirl sitting for a test with her studious expression, leaning over the table.

“Um,” she looked up, “What’s breath-play?”

“That’s play which restricts your breathing in some way or another,” I explained, “but you will see I have put a note underneath that item.”

She looked down.

“That you don’t do it,” she looked up again.

“Yes.”

She nodded and returned to the paper as I sipped my tea. I watched her shoulders move as she ticked boxes, noticing the way her muscles rolled and the fall of her hair.

“Um, Miss?” she asked and I almost giggled, caught off guard by my thoughts. 

“Yes, girl?” I tried to compose myself.

“What’s predicament-bondage?”

“Oh… um, yes,” I tried to think of a good way to explain it, “It’s when you are tied in such a way that requires you to make a choice between two uncomfortable positions.”

She still looked confused. 

“If I tied you up to stand over some rice spread on the floor in such a way that holding yourself up would be difficult or exhausting, but resting would force you to kneel on the painful rice,” I explained, wondering if that was a good example. 

She seemed to understand enough as she lowered her head to continue her work. 

“I think I’m done,” she said after a couple minutes more and handed me the pen and paper. I took them and placed them into my handbag without looking. 

“You aren’t going to read them?” 

“I will. But those are for another time when I pick things for you to try.”

She looked unsure. 

I leaned forward and looked her right in the eyes. 

“I don’t need a list to tell me what I can do with you, girl.” 

Her eyes grew wide and I continued, “This is just to give me inspiration for our explorations, and to know what your limits are.”

Kitty swallowed and I was encouraged to go on, “You will do what I tell you to do, simple as that.”

“Yes, Miss,” she whispered. 

“I’m glad we have an understanding,” I leaned back.

Kitty sat wide-eyed and unsure. I let her stew for a moment longer as I considered what I would in fact do with her. 

“Shall we go back to mine?” I found myself asking.

“Would you like that, Miss?” she asked in return. 

“I would,” I answered, but softened my tone, “but I need to know if that would interrupt what you need to do today. Do you have to write more this evening?”

“No, Miss,” she smiled awkwardly, “Like I said, after Saturday, I was inspired to get a lot done.”

“Good,” I said with a chuckle, before switching my tone again, “Then stand up and help me with my chair. We’re going home to start your training.”