Phoenyx: Flesh & Fire (21 page)

“What the fuck were you two up to in there?” she gasped. “You scared away the children.”

I finished adjusting my sweater and felt a hot rush flow into my cheeks.

“Not what you think,” Johnny snapped, “I’m not that quick, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, sweetie.” She took me by the hand as I came back around the counter. “Get more than we bargained for, did we?”

I shrugged, grinning maniacally. “I should say so.”

“What’s the damage?” Honey asked as Johnny rang up a total on the digital cash register. She had opened up her purse when I pushed her aside and dashed back around the counter again, seized by impromptu desires.
I had to
have the right one done now. I had to, there was no argument. I had to experience that again with the super-sensitive right tit. After all, the kids had vanished, and now was my chance to scream for all I was worth, if the need so arose.

“Do the other one,” I begged him. “Now.
Please
.”

Honey plucked one of the healthcare leaflets from the counter and turned away as we went back through.

“Aw Christ, here we go again,” she sighed, and Johnny closed the door with a click and a chuckle.

“Good day, then?” Honey asked me as I sat in the bath surrounded by cherry blossom bubbles.

I just sighed in response, waiting for her to finish rubbing surgical spirit into my nipples. There’d been a little bleeding earlier, which had alarmed me, but that had long since stopped. And besides, Honey had kissed them better, so everything was wonderful again.

“What d’you want to do tomorrow?”

I opened my eyes. “Get a tattoo.”

“Whoa there. Nice idea, but – really? Remember, you can’t take it off. You’re stuck with it. Forever.”

“I know. But I’ve seen the perfect design. The only design I’d ever want to get.” She looked through me with a strange kind of skepticism. “Aw, c’mon, Honey. This is no surprise. You obviously put Johnny up to it before we came here, right?”

That made her flash her eyelashes in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“The fiery phoenix bird, Honey. The one he said he completed just the day before.”

She swept a loose lock of hair back from her face. “You’ve totally lost me. I called him from Berlin to let him know I was coming back – sure. But you’ve never mentioned tattoos to me, and the only thing you ever spoke about was the piercing. Which you’ve already got.” She shrugged. “Sorry, am I missing something here?”

She was right, of course – it didn’t add up. But it was nonetheless too meaningful to ignore. “I don’t believe in coincidences,” I said by way of a response.

“Me neither. But if it feels right, then it’s probably all right. Right?” She flicked a finger over my right nipple and made me splash in response. “But, sleep on it. It’s a big commitment. Although, anything that means I get to rub cream into your skin is definitely fine by me.”

I did sleep on it, and when I awoke – even before I opened my eyes – the first thing I saw was Johnny’s phoenix bird, flaming wings outstretched and a tongue of fire flicking out from its open beak. I opened my eyes to see Honey in her white kimono, standing by the window and looking out at a thousand other windows opposite.

I arrived behind her, pressing my naked flesh against her warm silk. She reached behind and caught my hair between her fingers.

“Weather forecast is for rain. And humid sunshine,” she said.

“Warm and wet? Great combination.”

She turned around and squeezed her lips into mine. “Yes, you are, you divine fiery bird.”

“How long have you known Johnny for?” I asked.

“Oh, we go back years. First time, was in Montreal when he was still a student. He’s older than he looks, you know – I don’t know how he does it. And as well as being an amazing artist, he’s also damn handy at
kinbaku
.”

“What’s that, a martial art?”

That made her laugh. “No, dear. It’s Japanese rope bondage. Very different from the Western idea of whips ‘n chains.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” I confessed, feeling embarrassingly uneducated again. What little of it I’d seen didn’t interest me – I’d always preferred my sex to be physical and direct, and didn’t much like the idea of getting hit beyond the occasional good spanking, or Mrs. Groenenberg’s idea of discipline.

“Well, I was skeptical at first, as well. Until the night he sat down and explained it to me, all about its history as an art form and the sensual and psychological journey it involves.” She shrugged, seeing my lack of interest. “Hey, different strokes, and all that. Wanna get breakfast?”

“I wanna get my tattoo.”

“Then you really do need breakfast. Last thing you want is feeling faint or light-headed under the needle. C’mon, let’s go get some squid tentacles.”

I passed on the seafood options and dragged Honey to the nearest burger bar instead, where we were served in a smiling, grateful and very humble manner by uniformed employees who looked as though they actually valued their jobs and the service they were providing to the public.

“You still want to go through with this?” she asked me in between slurps of some kind of cola. “We’ve been here only a day and all you’ve wanted to do is suffer pain and bodily mutilation.”

“I’m just in love with the whole idea,” I explained. “And just imagine the reaction when I unveil that lot on stage at the Klub for the first time.”

“Where do you want this tattoo anyway?”

“Across my back. Shoulders, neck, down my spine.”

“Holy shit. You do realize that’s going to hurt like hell.”

“Pain’s temporary. If it’s something I really want – I’ll put up with anything. I remember how I felt the first time I tried to walk in stilettos. My feet felt like they’d been put through a mangle afterwards. But I stuck at it, because I knew it’d be worth it one day.”

“And look where it got you. All the way to the Kitty Klub, and by extension, all the way to Tokyo, with a fucked-up freak like me. Funny the meandering journeys that life takes at times, isn’t it?”

“Don’t put yourself down,” I scoffed. “It’s only Petra who’s scared of you. She’s intimidated, that’s all. Being a tight little Catholic and all that.”

“Hm, well. She’s says ‘fuck’ a lot, but I don’t think she gets too much of it. Maybe she just needs a good hard one in the ass to straighten her out. How would that go down with Bruno, now that he’s got his XXX license?”

“I don’t know if he was planning on extending our repertoire,” I smiled. “I think he was only trying to keep
your
ass out of the gutter, and
his
out of court. But maybe we can ask him when we get back.”

“I do kind of like that idea, y’know. I think me and you could make an amazing show. Probably the best in town.”

“I know we could. But let’s sleep on that one, too – I’m not sure if I want to share you in public yet.” I stood up and swung my bag over my shoulder. “Shall we go find Johnny?”

She led me by the hand through the streets back into the little alley with its shiny white shop front at the end, which now looked so welcoming and enticing. This was it, I thought; this was the place where something exciting and magical would happen for me very soon. I felt the same way I did when I first entered the Kitty Klub all those years ago – I couldn’t define it, I just knew that I
wanted
to be there, and that was because I also
needed
to be there. It simply had to be done.

A couple of sharp-dressed men in black suits and sunglasses came out and pushed past us as we approached, causing Honey to look back at them as they turned off onto the main thoroughfare.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“
Yakuza
,” she said cryptically.

“Huh?”

“Crime syndicate boys. They like their ritual tattoos. Don’t mess with them.”

I laughed, convinced that she was just bullshitting me. “I don’t mess with anyone I don’t know, Honey. Not unless they’re offering me something hot and tasty, anyway.”

She grabbed a handful of my ass cheek and pinched me, kindling memories of Mrs. Groenenberg’s crop.

“Yeah I know. Good job I’m keeping my eye on you or God knows who or what you might end up with. And I don’t just mean a bad dose of the clap either.”

I managed a crumpled smile, still unsure how seriously I should take her sarcastic commentary on my life. I knew it was nothing personal, like Mrs. Groenenberg’s abuse, and in a way, perhaps, I rather enjoyed it.

We entered the empty shop to find Johnny sitting behind the desk, sketching on a pad, moving gently to an old Scorpions song.

“What’s up, Johnny?” Honey sang, “Been falling behind on your protection money again?”

He glanced up, his look of concentration melting at the sight of us.

“Oh, the suits? They were just passing through. They were looking for someone I inked a while back, that was all – someone who’s in some very deep shit.” He pushed his pad out of sight and stood up as I approached. “So, you want something else pierced today?”

“No, I want a tattoo.”

“Ah. Still wanting the firebird?” he asked.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, it’s a complex one. All that shading - it’ll take a while. More than one session. You’ll need to come back, perhaps two times.”

I shrugged. “As long as it looks great by the end of it.”

“No, it will look
really
great.”

Honey slapped me on the shoulder. “You have fun, babe. I’m going to go shop for some nice things.”

“Aw, you don’t need to…” I started, but she was already back out the door.

Johnny led me through into the back shop.

“She’s such a bird,” he said, “always fluttering off without notice. I never thought she would ever come back to see me again, all that distance; and yet, she did. And brought me a wonderful surprise, too.” He smiled right at me, and I smiled back, feeling warm and flattered again.

He sat down on the chair and started doing things with little pots of ink and the big shiny needle gun. I perched on the edge of the couch and inhaled the smell of antiseptic. I tried not to think of school-time accidents and visits to the hospital.

“Okay,” he said at last. “The ink is ready. Now I just need the skin.”

I turned around and pulled my top up over my head, and dropped it back on the couch. He did a good job of looking me in the eye as my tits hung out to dry, but then it wasn’t the first time he’d seen them. The needle gun buzzed on and off again in his hands.

“How are the rings behaving? Treating them well?”

“Very well,” I said, and only then did he look down, perhaps to check that they hadn’t gotten infected and fallen off already. “Honey’s been helping, too.”

“Do you take your clothes off in public a lot?” he asked as I stretched out.

I fluttered a bit at that. “You can tell?”

“Yes. The ease and confidence was obvious. Most people, women especially, are shy and careful about doing this in front of a stranger.”

“I’ve made my living from taking all my clothes off in front of strangers,” I said as I settled down, face-down on the couch. It was black and soft and felt like a doctor’s examination couch, which is what it probably was. The room filled with that light buzzing sound again as he tested the ink flow a few times.

The initial contact with the needle made me flinch. It felt like a mild burn, but after a short while I’d become used to it. The radio was playing more hits by the Scorpions, and then I realized it was actually a cassette player.

“You like this music then?” I asked.

“I love rock music. I saw these guys live in the Budokan. Best show I ever saw.”

As it went on, the needle started to play across my spine, jabbing little sensations of strange pleasure into my brain. I couldn’t resist a furtive feel of my new piercings, and the shudder that ran through my nerves almost made me twitch. I chewed on a finger while I tweaked the ring with my other hand, out of sight, I hoped.

But there was something undeniably erotic about having my naked skin poked and jabbed by a true artist, leaving his mark forever upon me. I couldn’t help the release of a soft groan as I thought about the finished product, spread across my back as I turned to show it to my next audience for the first time. They would be amazed.

“The ink I use is magical,” he said suddenly.

“Magical?” I repeated, sure he had mis-translated something.

“It binds body and soul. Artist and wearer. It is like holy togetherness, when all become one. Communion. The design you are having is a very potent symbol. A fairy bird of rebirth.”

I nodded. “Yes, it means a lot to me. That’s why I chose it.”

“It will be even more magical when it’s done. I promise you that.”

I couldn’t be bothered asking him to explain his quasi-mystical magical nonsense. If it worked for him and made him do a better job, then great.

I had actually started to doze off when I felt something on my lower back, not the needle, for that was still higher up, somewhere under my shoulder blades. This was caressing my spine, and running soft points of pressure into the muscles at the top of my ass.

The feeling was intense and beautiful, and with my eyes still shut, I started touching that ring again. I loved how it made me tingle, made my nipples harden bigger and more erect than they’d ever been before. This was really an experience worth paying for, I thought, when I felt what was definitely a hand sliding over my ass, very slowly and gently, tracing the rounded contour down to the top of my thigh and then back again.

“Don’t tell me you do massage as well,” I said dreamily.

“I can do many things. I’m sure Honey will tell you about most of the really interesting ones.”

“Like bondage,” I tried.

The buzzing continued, and the hand worked my bottom harder. Something told me I wanted more of this exquisite attention I was receiving. I parted my legs a little and pushed my ass up into the air. His fingers crept underneath the waistband of my skirt and gently pulled it down, exposing my bare flesh. He tugged the skirt further away, all the way down to my knees, leaving me naked and vulnerable. With burning excitement running through me like electricity, I drew one leg up, the knee up to my chin, and whipped the skirt aside.