Chapter One

 

Alpha Male Submissive... Alpha Male Submissive... hmm, reflected Felicia as she lay on her tummy and pored over the online BDSM dictionary on her smart phone. Not one definition fits Eoj exactly, and one or two collaborators even say it's wrong to use the term to describe a submissive at all. But if Eoj isn't an alpha male sub, what on earth is he?

In spite of her intense discomfort she shook her head with a sly little grin. Eoj himself had answered that particular question for her not long before, in his own inimitable way, after she'd asked him what kind of a submissive he thought he was: "Your'n, Mis-turss. All your'n," he'd growled softly. And maybe that'd have to do, though "your'n" certainly didn't explain all of Eoj's quirks. Though he was a wild, nearly untamed mountaineer from the southern hill country of the state of Transylvania he'd respectfully asked her to help civilize him; he almost always acted as if he were trying his best to be obedient, and he took his punishments without flinching and often, even with a grin. Yet when she was with him, Felicia-or Lady Antonia in her Dominatrix mode-often felt like a Chihuahua trying to ride herd on an affectionate, indulgent Saint Bernard and not quite bringing it off. But, she guessed, it was as good a conundrum as any to puzzle over while-ow! God, it hurt and felt sexy at the same time!-she was getting his name ornately tattooed on her left buttock. The name of Eoj's alter ego, her husband and Dominant, Joe, was simultaneously being needled into the bare skin of her right nether cheek by a second tattoo artist. The stylish scripts, bright colors, and especially the locations were to be two of her presents to Joe for his birthday tomorrow. After all, Joe claimed one buttock and Eoj the other-to kiss rather than spank, Eoj stoutly insisted, although he seemed to be quite willing to share his half with Joe for disciplinary purposes. And being a switch between Dominant and submissive personae, Felicia was also entirely happy to lend a buttcheek, if not a hand. It was a real turn on to have a man who lusted after her so hotly, disciplined her so effectively, and loved her so gently besides, to claim proprietary ownership of her ass.

Joe and Felicia had been married at Christmastime, three months before, having met seven months prior to that just across the Mississippi in Memphis, Tennessee. Even though she'd encountered Joe's Dominant version while she was in her own role as a part-time professional Dominatrix and as the result of a prank call from two of Joe's coworkers, the accidental meet-up had helped her to discover her own submissive side and fall in love with Joe besides. Eoj hadn't even revealed himself for a couple of months into their relationship, and only then because Joe had met Felicia as Lady Antonia, really liked her, and wanted his submissive side, if it could even truly be called that, to get to know and to interact with her a little more. After their honeymoon Joe had begun a new job at the De Soto Regional Blood Bank in West Memphis, Arkansas, the couple settled in a small, newly-bought house just up the street from Stat Tats, and since the tattoo parlor was within walking distance from their home and run by two female tattooists (neither Joe nor Eoj would have approved of males working on her), Felicia felt that both of her new husband's personae deserved a nice surprise for their birthday tomorrow. Hence her presence on the table in the dimly-lit back of the shop, skirt up, bottom clothed just barely by a tiny, snug thong that provided the two stylishly Goth-dressed tattooists plenty of soft, smooth, shapely, sexy space to work on. She tried her best to hold still and focus her thoughts, although the simultaneous work of the two artists felt like a massive, unending assault on the meaty part of her upper behind from Cupid himself. Not that that idea was all bad, though, certainly. She looked over her shoulder.

"Close to being done?" she whispered timorously. "It's, uh, getting a bit sore and tender on both sides... Ow! Jeez! You went deep, there!"

"Hey. No wiggling or twerking, sweetie," Elle, the pale dark-brunette tattoo artist working on the "Eoj" side, reminded her with a smile almost feral as she raised her tattoo needle and gently wiped excess ink away from her design. "I'm almost finished and then I'll spritz on a little lidocaine. That'll help the pain at least some, so long as you don't apply too much pressure to these fresh tats. In other words, don't sit on 'em for a few days. I warned you that you should get one cheek done and then wait a couple weeks for the other. This is just what you get for coming in on a Friday evening and insisting that both tattoos be ready for the next day."

"Well-I guess I'm kinda impulsive like that. I didn't think of it two weeks ago, and now there's not time. My guy's birthday's tomorrow." Felicia offered guiltily.

"Anyway, my design's done now," Elle continued, "and I'm pretty sure Anna over there would've been finished too if she wasn't bi and enjoying the view a little too much for her own good. You really do have a sweet caboose, honey. This man of yours doesn't know how lucky he is."

"Sometimes I wonder if I know how lucky I am," Felicia replied softly and with a blush. She pointed to the black silk choker, its gold clasp adorned with the initials "JG," around her neck. "This is his collar I wear, right along with my wedding band and engagement ring," she confessed shyly.

"Honey, that's a beautiful piece of jewelry-but do shut up about me, Elle," griped Anna, a brown-haired young woman a little taller than Elle but just as pallid, as she put the final touches to the Spenserian script on the "Joe" side of Felicia's bottom. "I'm more professional than you are! But I'd still like to know how this pretty girl's had a blood brother for a partner as long as she has, and her skin still be perfect! Not even a tiny mark or nibble or nip scar anywhere I can see! But he's bound to be a blood brother, right? No dumb redneck would style himself as Eoj. I'm surprised we don't know him already. Where's he from and how'd he get here to West Memphis?"

Felicia raised her eyebrows and looked over her shoulder again. "Blood brother?" she asked. "What do you mean, blood brother? And no, although my man's from the state of Transylvania he's no hillbilly or redneck either one!" She just managed to catch Elle's angry glare at Anna and the cutting motion she made across her throat with a finger, but then the tattooist turned to Felicia and smiled once more. In the dim light in the back of the shop it almost seemed to Felicia that at least a few of Elle's teeth were pointed.

"Oh, never mind, sweetie," she answered as she began to squirt a fine mist of topical anesthetic on Felicia's new tattoos, "Anna shoots her mouth off sometimes, and it's not important anyway since she's finished with you too. 'Eoj' on the left side and 'Joe' on the right, both in black ink, one in calligraphy and the other in Spenserian script, each inside a sweet pink Valentine heart bordered in blue and yellow!" She carefully sprayed Felicia's buttocks with a second dose of lidocaine and then squirted a little more on her latex-gloved right palm and gently rubbed it into the tattoos. Finally she held up a mirror so her customer could see. "You want any alterations or additions?" she asked.

"Ooo! Ahh! Oh, that stuff feels so good! Lidocaine, you said? And the tats are beautiful!" enthused Felicia as she wiggled a little again in pleasure, "But... I just hope Joe... and, well, Eoj, who's his alter ego... like them as well as I do! He told me once he didn't want me to get my butt marked up, but when he sees how pretty these are, I think he'll change his mind."

"Oh, he'll love 'em, I'm sure," chimed in Anna as she pulled off her gloves and let them drop into a wastebasket. "You really should bring him to Stat Tats some time and let us come up with a design for him! Eoj sounds like our kind of people!"

"Not on his bottom, though, unless a male does it. That part of him's all mine!" countered Felicia with a smirk. She dropped her phone back into her purse, lifted herself with her shoulders as she climbed off the table, and eased her feet into her sandals. Her skirt gently fell to cover her new body art, but she winced afresh as her derriere bumped the edge of the table. She tried to rub herself and immediately regretted it. "God!" she hissed, "Could I buy a little of that spray? Even with it on, when any pressure's put on my ass I still feel the burn!"

"I warned you," chuckled Elle, adding her gloves to Anna's in the wastebasket, "but if your guy can hold off from playing with your butt for a few days, especially from biting it, and you'll stay on your tummy during that time, you'll be fine. Just follow the instructions we gave you for aftercare. The swelling'll go down before you know it. The pain-well, everybody's got their own pain threshold, so you'll just have to see. Try and lean forward as far as you can when you have to-uh, well, answer any calls of nature. I'll throw in the lidocaine for you. We've got plenty," she concluded, tossing the small spray canister to Felicia, who dropped it in her purse and began to rummage for her wallet.

"How much do I owe you, again?" she asked.

The two tattooists looked at each other and smiled. "Well," began Elle, "I believe I quoted you $200 for each tat-though if you're interested, we're offering a sort of special right now that'll let you save at least half that. Would you like to hear about it?"

"Of course," Felicia answered, still trying to accustom herself to the presence of the two ultra-sensitive hearts on her upper buttocks-and the dampness the sensations on each side stimulated between her thighs. She wondered if the sensation of being tattooed had anything in common with that of a branding. Who knew? One day she might even find out. The thought aroused her curiosity. Well, truth told, she was a bit of a pain puppy and it aroused her, period.

"Well, you see," began Anna as she pulled fresh latex gloves from a box, opened a drawer on a small bureau right next to a recliner, and lifted out a thick, translucent plastic bag with a couple feet of tubing attached, "Elle and I are volunteers, you might say, for the De Soto Regional Blood Bank, and if you'll kindly consent to donate us-err, I mean them-a pint of your blood, we'll cut the fee exactly in half. You needn't worry; we'll take perfect care of you and have you wait with us until we're sure you're strong enough to walk after your donation, and we even have a few snacks here in case you get shaky! It's a really good deal; we've got copper sulfate solution here to test your hemoglobin level beforehand, to make sure you're not too anemic to donate." She pointed to a small vial of bluish-green liquid sitting on top of the bureau. "One hundred percent safe, we guarantee. And the test only requires one drop of blood. How about it?"

Felicia smiled. "De Soto Regional Blood Bank?" she asked. "That's where my husband works, in the Specialty Lab! I bet he knows you, after all! Well... maybe if you give me that copper sulfate test first..."

Both Elle and Anna already appeared unhealthily wan, but if possible the two turned even paler at Felicia's last reply. They looked at one another again, eyes wide this time, and both gulped audibly. Finally Elle found her voice. "You have a husband... named Eoj... whose name's actually Joe"-here she swallowed loudly again-"and he works at the D-D-De Soto-Sp-Specialty Lab?" she finally managed to stammer.

"Joe-Guthrie?" Anna warbled as if in echo.

"Why, yes, that's him!" exclaimed Felicia, for a moment able to forget the fresh needling on each of her buns. "I'll have to tell him I met you, this evening when I get home! Small world, isn't it? But... I guess that means he gets his surprise tonight, instead of tomorrow..."

Elle looked as if she were about to cry. "Yeah... small world, indeed," she murmured in a voice full of nerves and with a disconsolate glance at Anna, who now appeared to be on the verge of panic.

"Listen! Mrs. Guthrie?" began Anna, talking rapidly, "we couldn't think of charging Joe Guthrie's wife one red drop-err, I mean one red cent-for those tattoos! Right, Elle?" Here her partner nodded vigorously. "Consider them our gift to you-completely on the house-but before you go, let us show you our business license and our certifications from the County Health Department. Please? We run a very clean operation here and we want everybody to know it! No danger of catching any disease at Stat Tats, no, ma'am, never!" She grabbed Felicia's arm and began to try to lead her to the wall at the front of the shop where her jacket hung on a rack and the shop's accreditation and license papers were displayed. Anna squinted and winced a little, as if in pain, when she came near the shop windows.

"But-but-" Felicia began as she felt herself dragged to the shop front, "I'm perfectly willing to pay what I owe you for these tattoos! They're really quality workmanship, although right now I could picture myself becoming a bit of a lidocaine addict!"

"No, no, we couldn't think of taking your money or your blood!" Anna insisted. "In fact... why don't you just simply not tell Mr. Guthrie who tattooed you? Make it our little secret, maybe? We'd... err... we wouldn't want to uh, brag on ourselves too much, would we, Elle? We're modest, right? And remember, you want this to be a surprise for him, don't you? We'll give you all the lidocaine you want!"

Felicia was completely mystified now. "But why wouldn't you want Joe to know how skilled you are?" she asked. "And if I tell him I've not paid for these tattoos, I have no doubt he'll insist that I come straight back here and make it right with you. That is if he doesn't come on his own and pay you for them himself."

No longer able to contain her tension and stress, poor Elle burst into sobs. "That's what we're afraid of!" she wailed piteously as Anna, tears running down her face now as well, held her and tried to comfort her.

"Girls!" began Felicia again, "What's the matter? I simply don't understand what's going on-oh, hold it, there goes my phone," she continued as she hastily fished the smart phone back out of her purse and checked the screen. "Speak of the devil: it's Joe." She raised it to her temple.

"Yeah... speak of the devil!" whimpered Anna as Elle sobbed afresh.

"Hi, honey! You home? You saw my text and my note, didn't you? That I was shopping for a birthday present for you? No, I'm fine... right now I'm at Stat Tats just down the street... uh... Joe? Hello? You don't have to come get me, I've got my jacket and I can walk... Hello?" Felicia shook her head as she returned the phone to her purse. "He said he'd be right here in two minutes, and hung up before I could get another word in," she murmured, frowning slightly as Anna's tears mixed with those of Elle, the two tattoo artists still holding each other tight. Felicia stared. Of all the times in her life she'd been thoroughly confused, this incident not only took the cake, but walked off with the entire bakery.

There was only one thing she could be certain of: for some reason, Elle and Anna were utterly, abjectly terrified of her husband.