Cat Nipped Ch 03

Morning comes too early as it usually does for me. I open my bleary eyes to find Tara staring at me with brilliant, golden eyes. Not her normal hazel eye color, but a bright, metallic 24k gleam. Whoa!

"Your eyes...," I begin.

Tara blurts at the same time, "Good morning sleepy-head."

We laugh. By the time I yawn and wipe the sleep from my gummy, chocolate brown orbs, Tara's eyes are again their normal hazel color.

I know what I saw. Her eyes were gold, with all the flashing metallic glints of sunlight on high end jewelry. There's more to our Tara than beauty and artistic talent!

Images swirl in my head, snippets of things my subconscious has noted. Things that have not yet made it to my waking mind. I'm distracted by a kiss before they can coalesce into a coherent thought.

"You ready for today?" Tara asks.

"Yeah," I say, "more than ready."

Today is the day I get my tattoo. Well, today is the day Tara will begin working on my tattoo. She's told me it will take three or four sessions to complete depending on how well I tolerate the inking process. I'm a little nervous, but my excitement outpaces my nerves by a mile. Tara says I'll be fine as long as I remember to stay relaxed.

She's says eating a good breakfast is the best start to the day so she'll be making us a batch of French toast and bacon. Last night we stayed at my house so Tara is working in an unfamiliar kitchen. It doesn't seem to bother her. She's already finished the bacon and now she's working on the last few slices of toast. She looks so cute bouncing around my kitchen in the Carolina Panthers jersey she is wearing as a nightgown.

Go Panthers!

"What are you thinking?" Tara asks as she sets a steaming plate of food in front of me.

"I'm thinking you look really hot in that jersey."

"Oh really? Last night you were annoyed that I wore this instead of coming to bed naked."

"That's true," I say. "You look great in the jersey. Still, I'd rather you were naked."

Tara lowers her head and her long, chocolate colored tresses form a curtain in front of her face, though they can't obscure the blush that runs into the collar of the jersey.

Tara says softly. "Looks change. They fade. I want to be liked for who I am on the inside, for what I do and what I believe."

"Who you are on the inside is all I care about. I saw your empathy the other night when I broke down in the bathroom. I've seen you with your friends, seen how they respond to you. You don't receive that kind of love without being a special type of person."

"You think so?"

I reply, "I know it, honey."

I can see by the look on her face, Tara is pleased with my answer. She looks at me, eyes bright, her wide smile showing her brilliant teeth in all their sharp, feral, glory. Tara opens her mouth to say something, something important or silly, something deep or wildly trivial. Whatever she is about to say is lost though, because what comes out of her mouth is, "Eat your breakfast before it gets cold." Shrugging, I pick up my fork and dig in.

"Are you comfortable?" Tara asks. "Make sure you're in a position you can hold for a while."

I'm laying across a table in Tara's shop, naked from the waist up and with my long, dirty blonde hair up in a bun. The table's height has been lowered so Tara has access to my back, shoulder and neck. The specialty bench next to me has been designed to fit under the table I'm on, leaving Tara's body flush against the table's edge. The ever perky Sydney is sitting behind Tara. Her curvy body is flush against Tara and her palms rest lightly on Tara's thighs. I pointedly look at Sydney's hands then raise my eyes to meet hers. Sydney's wink is telling; she knows I am annoyed. When she wraps her arms around Tara's waist and mouths to me 'I love this!' she is just being mean-spirited.

"Ready, Syd?" Tara asks.

"Yeah boss." Comes her reply. I don't see the satisfied smirk on Sydney's face as I've already closed my eyes, but I sure as hell hear it in her voice.

"Okay, sweetie," Tara says with a pat to my shoulder. "We're going to get started now. Just relax and let me work my magic.

The sound of the tattoo gun blends with the sounds of Tara and Sydney's soft voices. The two friends keep up a steady chatter as Tara works on my inking. There's pain, but less than I expected. Tara's left hand is firm and steady on my back while the right drifts smoothly over my taut skin. Mostly, I find myself drifting, thinking back to a childhood spent with my mother and sisters. I think about who I am, who I want to be. I spend a fair bit of my time thinking about Tara.

"Jennifer..." Tara's voice sounds very far away. "Jenn! Hey, Jenn. Earth to Jennifer."

"Uh-huh," I answer. I'm still drifting, drifting.

"We're going to take a break."

"Don't bother. I'm good to keep going."

Tap! There's a sharp rap on my unsuspecting bottom. "Hey, what's that for?" I ask.

Tara answers smartly, "You may be good, but Syd and I have been at it for almost four hours." She rubs my back lovingly. "We need to stretch our legs and grab something to eat."

"Four hours? Really? It doesn't feel like it's been that long."

Sydney chimes in, "I've never seen anyone have that much work done in one shot. It's almost like you were unconscious. And Tara, shit girl, I've never seen you work so fast! I could barely see your hand at one point."

Tara smiles at Sydney shyly. "Jennifer's the perfect subject."

"Tara," Sydney calls, "how about you run over to Shorty's and grab us some lunch? I'll keep Jennifer company and let her take a look at what you've finished."

Tara looks over at me; she is as aware as I that Sydney wants to be alone with me. Unsure of what it is Sydney could want I return her look letting her clearly see my uncertainty.

Sydney breaks the uncomfortable silence by speaking. "C'mon girls. I'm not going to do anything. I just want to have a little chat with Jennifer."

"Okay," I reply. "I guess that would be alright."

Tara looks at each of us in turn, still unsure if she should leave me alone. "Go ahead, Tara. I'll be fine."

"You sure?" she asks.

"Yes. Pick me up something good."

"Sure. Syd you want your usual?"

"Yes, thank you," Sydney replies.

We watch Tara head out the door, Sydney with quiet expectation and me with slight trepidation. When she is gone, Sydney turns to me with frank concentration. She stares at me for a good thirty seconds. Her look is neither menacing nor challenging, but it is appraising. I can't tell whether I pass the test or not, the look on Sydney's face reveals nothing of what's going on in the background. By now I'm sitting up on the table, one arm covering my naked chest, the other supporting me against the table top. Sydney ambles over to the table and takes a seat beside me.

"So Jennifer," Sydney begins. "I need to ask you a question. There's no right or wrong answer so I want you to be as honest in your answer as you can be. "

"I can do that," I reply.

"Good! Here we go: As far as your relationship with Tara goes, are you in it for the long haul, through sickness and health and all that fairytale stuff or are you just having fun?" I start to answer but I'm cut off. "Wait a sec. Like I said, your answer just determines how we spend the next few minutes. If you say you're just having fun, and that's totally ok, we can head to the back so you can see your ink. But...if this is a serious relationship we're going to need to have a quick, but fairly deep discussion."

She pauses and now it's my turn to appraise Sydney. Is there some ulterior motive behind this discussion? Is she trying to plant some seed of doubt in my mind that will later bloom into a relationship destroying weed? I study her, watching her face, her body language for clues of ill will or subterfuge. I've become a fair judge of character in my thirty-nine years and I put all of that experience to use. In the end, I don't sense anything amiss so I answer the question honestly.

"I've told Tara that she's kidnapped my heart and she's stuck with me until she gives it back. I mean it. I'm here until she tells me she doesn't want me around anymore."

Sydney pats my leg and gives me a quick smile. "That's good, because in Tara's mind you two are already set in stone. Okay, now for the hard part. I want you to keep an open mind and don't say anything until I finish talking."

She pauses and takes a deep breath as she centers her thoughts. "I've known Tara a long time, since third grade in fact. We met our friend Scott when he moved here in fourth grade. She's comfortable with us, probably more comfortable than she is with anyone else. That being said, she sometimes forgets to hide...uh, this is harder than I would have thought. Let me try again. Tara is special, unique. She's unnaturally strong and almost impossibly fast. She has a verified genius level IQ. You probably haven't seen any of those yet so you'll have to take my word."

I'm looking at Sydney, but my mind starts to catalogue the times Tara has done something out of the ordinary. There's still something missing, the one or two facts that will connect the dots that are stuck at the back of my mind.

"I'm not crazy," Sydney says. "I could give you example after example, but if you haven't seen it for yourself I don't know that they would be worth telling." She must mistake my deep thoughts for disbelief.

"Say for arguments sake that I've seen a thing or two that leaves me inclined to believe you. That doesn't change how I feel about Tara."

"It shouldn't! That's not my goal at all. All I'm saying is for the most part Tara keeps her uniqueness hidden. That's fine. She's carved out a nice little life here in Wake Forest, her own shop, good group of friends. Now you. But imagine going your whole life hiding who you are and what you're capable of. How depressing would that be? What I hope you'll do, be willing to do, is be the person she doesn't have to hide from. Be the person she can be herself with no matter who that turns out to be. You think you can do that, Jennifer?"

"I've never felt for anyone what I feel for Tara. If she grows a second head I'll still be here for her. Nothing will change that!" Sydney's smile is so warm and inviting, I automatically reach out and give her a hug.

"Jennifer, I think you and I are gonna be great friends. Come on lets go take a look at what Tara's inked on your back and neck. You are absolutely going to love it!"

By the time we leave Tara's shop my tattoo is almost complete. Sydney went on and on about how amazing my new ink looked and how much Tara was able to accomplish in just this single sitting. It was fairly obvious from the way Sydney was carrying on that this was another example of something extraordinary Tara has done. I haven't made up my mind yet on how I'm going to approach the subject, but I've definitely made the decision that it has to be done. Our relationship is too new to have something this big be hidden one party and avoided by the other.

We're staying at Tara's place tonight; the drive there is shorter and Tara seems like she needs to take a break for a while. Walking through the front door, Tara falls onto the sofa with a sigh. She sits still for a moment, then reaches for the television remote. I know she is tired and needs a break, but the thought of watching tv when we could be doing so many other things is anathema to me. So I grab the remote before Tara can get to it and slide off the sofa.

"Hey, give that back," she says.

"No," I answer as I continue to edge away.

"Don't be bad tonight, Jennifer. Being bad tonight will get you put over my knee."

"What are you gonna do?" I ask. "Spank me."

"I will if you don't start behaving. Now give me that remote!"

All the time we've been talking I've been moving steadily backward. At this point, I'm on the far side of the little apartment's living space. The only thing left behind me is the short hallway that leads to the half bath, linen closet and Tara's bedroom.

"Talk is cheap," I reply. "How are you going to spank me from all the way over there?"

Tara's answer is part laugh and part growl. The combination sends butterflies to my belly. "It's a small apartment, babe. If I decide to come over there you won't be able to stop me from putting you over my knee."

"I don't think you can catch me before I get to your room and lock the door."

"Oh, I could if I was motivated enough."

Tara has moved to the edge of the couch by this point. She's still sitting down, her body completely still, but the sense of motion in abeyance is palpable. Again I'm reminded of something, something that is so close to the surface that I want to disengage our play to sort it out. Then I see Tara's little smile. I've come to love that smile; it means Tara is locked into the moment, ready to set her shyness aside in favor of bold action. The butterflies descend and take up residence in my vagina.

I keep my eyes locked on hers as I slip the remote into the waistband of my skirt. Using both hands, I lift my blouse up and over my head before throwing it in Tara's direction. My bra follows. When that too has been lofted toward my girlfriend, I lower the zipper on my skirt, shimmying to send it sliding to the floor. I wiggle my hips as I slide my panties slowly down my long legs and kick them off my feet. I'm naked now except for my heels which I kick off for practical purposes. Tara's nipples are straining against the bra and blouse she is wearing. Her nipples are winning by a long shot. I don't even need to ask if she is sufficiently motivated!

"Tell you what," I say. "If you can catch me before I get to your room you won't have to put me over your knee. I'll climb over it all on my own and you can spank...me...bare bottom!"

"You're on," Tara calls as she slides to the floor.

"Uh-uh. Back on the sofa chick. I'll let you know when you can move."

Tara moves back onto the couch with a smirk. "This won't save you. I can't wait to smack those little cheeks of yours."

"Then all you have to do is catch me. Ready. Get set. GO!"

I pivot on my right foot as soon as the last word leaves my mouth, turning into the short hallway and racing toward the bedroom at the end. A couple of steps into my run I'm grabbed by strong arms and pulled back against a small, but sturdy frame.

"Gotcha girly-girl!"

"No fair," I cry.

Nothing is that fast. Nothing human.

Tara pulls me until I'm flush against her. Her skin is hot to the touch, warming me and making me press back into her body. She is nuzzling on my back and shoulders; her skin is soft.

"Come on," she says, her breath warm and moist against my spine. "Time to pay up, babe."

"Still think you cheated," I grumble under my breath.

"Don't be a sore loser. You're going to enjoy this."

I'm led back toward the living area of the apartment. Tara stops to grab one of the kitchen chairs along the way. She shoves aside the coffee table from in front of the sofa and places the chair so that it now sits facing the sofa with about eighteen inches between the chair and sofa. Tara kicks of her shoes, pulls off her jeans and sits down in the chair. Her legs are spread wide. Arms are held open in invitation. Tara looks up at me where I stand naked beside the chair. Her smile is tender, expectant, hopeful. I don't have it in me to deny her and fair is fair. She did win, even though she cheated. I lean over Tara's spread thighs, adjusting my hips so that my bottom is laying above her right thigh. This position allows me to keep my feet planted firmly on the ground, though my right leg is pressed against the sofa's edge.

Tara taps my right thigh. "Put this knee up on the couch."

Rising up, I place my knee on the couch beside me. Almost immediately I understand why the chair has been positioned this way. Laying back down on Tara's thighs forces me to arch my back and spread my thighs wide, presenting my cheeks, pussy and asshole for review. The hot, throbbing cock pressed to my side tells me the inspection is going favorably. The new position leaves me feeling both very exposed and vulnerable, but it is not difficult to maintain. I tremble, a trifle nervous at what is coming next.

"Just relax," Tara says.

She palms a brown bottle in her tiny little palm. I have no idea where she got it from. When she opens the bottle the air comes alive with a bold, spicy fragrance. I breathe deeply. Tara rubs the massage oil into her palms, then begins to rub and smooth it into the skin along my neck and shoulders. She takes her time, rubbing all around my shoulders and upper back, down to my biceps on both arms and along the sides of my torso. When this has been done to her satisfaction she slides her palms and strong fingers over and around my lower back. Her fingers press firmly into tight muscles, loosening them before flattening and rubbing gently. This wonderful massage goes on and on, lasting at least fifteen to twenty minutes. I'm so relaxed, the knee which had been up on the couch slides to the right until my inner thigh is pressed flat against the sofa's cushion. I'm shamelessly spread as wide as I can possibly be. This must be what Tara is waiting for, because once I've stopped moving she begins to speak.

"OK Jennifer. I'm going to spank you twenty times."

"Twenty!" I say, starting to panic a little.

"Shhhhh. Don't speak. I'm going to spank you twenty times. The first five smacks will be soft, just getting you used to me touching you. The next ten will be firm, but not terribly hard. The last five will be hard. You have to trust me ok. I'm not going to hurt you. If you relax and stay with me I think you'll really enjoy this."

"I'll try," I answer. "When do we start?"

"Look down," Tara says. "Do you see my left foot? When you're ready for a spank grab my foot. You're in control of how fast or how slow I go, ok? I won't spank you until you grab my foot."

All the time she has been talking, Tara has continued to my massage. Her extra hot hands have moved down to encompass the round globes of my petite ass and my long, lean thighs. I feel the warmth of her hands traveling up, over the soft, pliant muscles of my back, across the width of my shoulders and then sliding, slickly back down to my butt cheeks and thighs. The sensation is heavenly. I look down at Tara's left foot; she has the cutest little footie. Her toes are round and of medium length. She's updated her toenail polish and now her little piggies are a swirling pattern of iridescent purple and a dark magenta. I take a deep breath and reach out to grab her foot with my hand.

tap! I feel a soft slap on my upper left butt cheek, more sound than fury. As soon as the tap is done, Tara goes back to rubbing my skin. There is a slight tingle left behind by the spank.

This isn't so bad.

I reach out again wrapping my hand around her instep and squeeze. tap! This smack lands on my lower right butt cheek. Now both cheeks are tingling just a little. As before, Tara has immediately started massaging and rubbing my skin only this time with a twist. This time her hands slide to my inner thighs, rubbing, kneading the skin just scant inches from my pussy. The butterflies which had disappeared earlier return with a vengeance and set up permanent residence in my moistening twat. My hand continues to hold Tara's foot lightly. She hasn't made a move to spank me even though my hand is on her foot. She obviously intends to hold to her promise to only spank when I actually squeeze her left foot.

I really am in control of how this spanking goes.

Armed with new confidence, I squeeze her foot once again. tap! The third smack hits my lower left butt cheek. I think I'm starting to see the pattern. The tingle from my first slap is starting to fade and with it the strangely erotic warmth in my bottom is starting to lag so with only a small pause I squeeze twice more. tap! tap! The strikes fall in quick succession. The first hits my upper right butt cheek, the second hits almost directly in between the two swats on my left buttock. Warmth spreads across my ass and I take a minute to enjoy the sensation. Tara's left hand continues to massage my back and shoulders while her right has exclusively begun to rub the plump lips of my wet pussy. The hand on my back is strong and firm, while the hand against my pussy is soft and light, just barely grazing my fat, slick lips. The variance between the two feelings has me feeling hot and bothered. A soft moan escapes before I can cut it off.