Deep Blue

by Aishling Morgan

  ‘Who else is there? Say five or six years ago at least.’

  ‘Nobody, not then, not now.’

  ‘Oh, well, never mind. What about it, Violet? Up for it?’

  ‘I’m not sure. My Ianthe really hurt.’

  ‘Where is it?’ he asked.

  ‘On my tummy.’

  ‘The stomach’s one of the worst. The face is worst of all, and anywhere over bone. A bottom shouldn’t be bad, if that’s where you want it.’

  ‘You don’t mind?’

  ‘A man of my age, putting a tattoo on a pretty girl like you? On your bottom? No, I don’t mind.’

  ‘OK, then, but I want mine purple, as near my hair colour as you can get, and the eyes yellow.’

  ‘No time like the present. I work upstairs.’

  Violet rose, feeling slightly uneasy about showing her bum to the old man but telling herself not to be silly. Yasmin was smiling and clearly found the idea amusing. Obviously he was going to get a kick out of doing it, but he didn’t seem creepy the way some older men did, while she knew that backing out would leave her feeling ineffectual.

  ‘I’ve not ever done an octopus,’ the man was saying, ‘so you’ll have to draw the fellow. Still, I was reckoned quite an artist, in my time, so I reckon I can do it. What’s your name, by the bye? I’m John Pardue, or Jan as we say around here.’

  ‘Violet,’ Violet answered. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Yasmin,’ Yasmin added.

  ‘Pretty names,’ he answered. ‘My granddaughter is a Jasmine, over Newton Abbot way. Now, here we are.’

  He had pushed open a door, revealing a studio, cluttered with furniture, equipment and paper, most of which showed tattoo designs. Violet could smell the ink, her trepidation growing as she remembered the pain of her belly tattoo.

  ‘Most of mine just sit in the chair,’ Jan was saying. ‘I suppose you’d better go on the bed. Now don’t worry, you’ve no cause to over an old boy like me. Now, I need that drawing.’

  Violet sat on the bed, watching as he passed Yasmin paper, a pen and a well-worn set of children’s colours. She began to draw, outlining the bulbous mass of the octopus and the writhing tentacles, tucked together in much the same intertwined pattern as the Celtic scrollwork on her arms.

  ‘Are you sure the pattern was like that?’ she asked.

  ‘Certain,’ Yasmin answered. ‘It was one of the things I noticed. I thought Kieran might have done it.’

  She finished, handing the paper to Jan, who quickly sketched out a more professional version and handed it over for approval. Violet took one look and knew she had to have it. Nich would be fascinated, she was sure, and also think it highly appropriate after she had dreamed of the god. She nodded, smiling, as she passed the paper back to Jan.

  ‘Best get ready, then,’ he said as he turned to his equipment. ‘Where on your behind do you want it?’

  ‘Left cheek,’ Yasmin answered. ‘Right on the chubby bit.’

  ‘Tricky,’ he answered. ‘Hard to get at. You’ll have to excuse me, miss, don’t think I’m trying to touch you up or anything.’

  ‘I shan’t,’ Violet promised, turning to hide an instinctive blush, but more from Yasmin than from Jan.

  She twisted, laying herself out on the bed, face down. Reaching back, she twitched up her skirt, her face flushing hot despite herself as she showed her tight purple panties to the old man. Taking them by the edge, she pulled the material into the cleft of her bottom, baring one cheek.

  ‘Pants down, if you wouldn’t mind,’ Jan said. ‘Wouldn’t do to have them slip and hit the needle.’

  ‘No, you’re right,’ Violet admitted.

  Raising her tummy, she reached to push her panties down, well clear of her bum. With the whole of her bottom bare her sense of exposure increased sharply, made worse by the certainty that a puff of pussy hair and a hint of her sex lips would be showing from the rear between her slim thighs. He would also be able to smell her pussy, and she found herself hoping he had the decency to keep his fingers to himself as she laid her head on her hands and tried to relax. Not that he could exactly avoid touching her anyway.

  ‘That’s the way, don’t tense up or he’ll spoil,’ Jan remarked.

  He began his work, preparing her bottom, rubbing the tuck of her cheek with the cloth, an action that made the soft flesh move and that she felt was certain to give him an accidental peep of her bottom hole. She sighed, chagrined at exposing herself so intimately to an old man, but determined to go through with it. The buzz of the needle started and she braced, gritting her teeth but forcing herself to keep her bottom relaxed. His hand touched her cheek, firm but gentle, then came the sudden stab of the needle.

  Violet winced, her mouth coming open at the sudden sting, a sensation she remembered from before and which she had always compared to catching herself on barbed wire when playing as a child. Gritting her teeth in an effort to lessen the pain, she struggled not to pull away, allowing him to draw a slow curve over the skin of her bottom. It stopped suddenly, leaving her feeling dizzy and a little sick, then started again and Jan began to hum softly to himself as he worked. The pain was as before, making her wonder how anybody could ever put up with it for the sake of vanity, until she realised that it had begun to dull and knew that her endorphins had started to run.

  The dizziness lasted, changing to a hazy feeling as the outline of the octopus was slowly tattooed on to her naked bumcheek. She began to relax, the embarrassment of having her panties down in front of him fading to be replaced by a sense of amusement, much like the odd occasions she had flashed her chest to people quite incapable of doing anything about it. Her thoughts turned to Nich, of how pleased he would be and how good it would feel to have sex with him, kneeling so that he could admire her tattoo while he was in her.

  She felt every detail, each arm, each sucker, yet it finished long before she had expected it to, leaving her with an odd sense of disappointment. Looking back, she found Jan changing the needle, Yasmin admiring her bottom.

  ‘Purple, you say?’ Jan queried. ‘With yellow eyes?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Maybe some highlights?’

  ‘Go for it.’

  Once more she settled her chin on her hands, wincing again when the bar of needles first bit into her flesh, but quickly coming to terms with it. Without doubt the filling in was less painful than the outline, really no more than a rough tickling, like having fingernails drawn hard over her skin. Indeed, what with the feel of lying there with her panties down and the flow of her endorphins, it was becoming pleasantly naughty. With the pain dulled, the buzz of the tattooing tool was also beginning to get to her, the vibrations reaching her pussy. With a touch of embarrassment she wondered if her excitement showed, and was suddenly thankful for the presence of Yasmin.

  She imagined the old boy realising, sneakily preparing his cock and then mounting her unexpectedly, pushing his penis into her from behind, his belly slapping on her bottom as he thrust into her, fucking her, taking quick advantage of her ready hole. The thought sent a shiver through her. With her bare bum in his hands he would surely be excited, and it would be so easy. Tell her to lie still while he made a needle change, cock out, up on the bed, on top of her, her legs pushed apart and he would be in, up the wet tube of her pussy as she squeaked in alarm and surprise but took it, letting the poor old boy have his fun with her in payment for her tatt. She would masturbate afterwards — she’d have to — right in front of him and Yasmin, legs apart, pussy wide, rubbing herself in an open display of pleasure. He would get hard again, despite his age, and roll her legs up, holding her by the ankles and fucking her on her back, in and out as she felt her breasts…

  Violet came, her dirty thoughts mixing with the buzz of the tattooing tool to bring her to an orgasm quickly stifled into the bed. Jan gave a knowing chuckle and she found herself blushing hot, but he said nothing. A pause came as he switched to the yellow ink, after which it was quickly over. Rising from the bed, she t
hanked him, still blushing in embarrassment. He casually began to put his things away, giving no sign that he had noticed or been affected. Feeling oddly resentful, Violet went to her bag.

  ‘How much is that, then?’ she asked, wondering if he was too old to care or even if he preferred men.

  ‘Twenty,’ he answered, ‘unless you two are the sort who’d like to give a lonely old man a thrill.’

  Violet felt shock, a stab of anger at the dirty suggestion, only to fight it down. The reaction came from her upbringing, she knew, and suddenly she found herself smiling. So he was not so immune to her charms after all. She glanced at Yasmin, who made a face and shrugged.

  ‘You can look,’ she said quickly. ‘Come on, Yasmin, you too.’

  She went to the bed, her heart fluttering with a lovely naughty feeling as she bent, flicked up her skirt and pushed her knickers down, showing her bare bottom and her tattoo. Yasmin shook her head in mock disapproval, but with a quick motion pulled her top up, spilling two large, dark breasts out of her bra. Jan smiled, sat down on a chair and quite calmly took out his cock.

  It was quick, his eyes feasting on the two half-naked girls as his hand jerked at his penis. Given his age, Violet expected him to take his time, but it seemed only a moment before he groaned, thanked them and walked from the room, still holding his cock. Five minutes later they were leaving the house, giggling over what they had done. Still feeling cheeky, Violet pulled her skirt up and adjusted her knickers, giving Yasmin a view of her tattoo in full sunlight.

  ‘Neat,’ Yasmin said. ‘Nich’ll love it. So, do you reckon Jan was the guy who gave Tammy hers?’

  ‘Must be,’ Violet answered. ‘He obviously doesn’t remember, either that or he’s hiding something. Either way, it doesn’t tell us much.’

  ‘With luck we can find her before the party,’ Yasmin went on. ‘She said she often goes on the beach.’

  ‘We’ll try tomorrow. I feel good for that, you know, the tattoo, not posing for him, although that was all right. I’m not scared of dreaming again any more either. In fact, let’s get Nich and suggest we sleep on the Wythman. That way I’m sure to dream again.’

  ‘But it was a nightmare — you said you could barely handle it.’

  ‘It was, until I called on Sigodin-Yth. After that it was scary. Imagine it, I was helpless, desperate, about to be raped and there was nothing I could do about it. He came and they ran, and all the fear and anguish I felt was transferred to them. They ran, they couldn’t even look at him.’

  ‘Did you see him?’

  ‘No, I woke up, but I will, I’m sure I will. Perhaps I just need to be closer.’

  Lily found herself unable to still the trembling of her fingers as she sipped her coffee. She had parted with Nich’s paper, driven both by his insistence and a sense that it really was the just thing to do. Yet there was no doubt at all that Ed would be angry if he found out. Fortunately, he had shown no interest in it whatever and hopefully would accept her excuse that she had thrown it away if the question ever arose.

  He had told her to wait for him at his house, which she had obeyed, as always. Now, with the clock moving slowly towards the time he came off duty, she found her sense of trepidation growing, and not only from the possible consequences of his finding out about the paper. After the previous night it was entirely possible that he would go drinking with his friends after work, and if he did it seemed entirely possible that he would bring back one or more, and in turn that he was quite capable of making her perform for them.

  Worse still, she knew she would do it. Whether it was striptease, or cocksucking, even being sent to bed to let them have her one after another, she knew she would be unable to resist. She also knew she would finish by coming under her own fingers, but the knowledge only added to her shame and fear. In response she had sat herself by the front-room window, sipping coffee and watching the road, dreading what she might see and praying for it at the same time.

  When Ed finally came into view he was alone. Relief flooded through her, tempered by disappointment, which in turn brought shame for her own dirty feelings. He was in his uniform, stern and smart despite having his jacket thrown casually over his shoulder, a look she found impossible not to appreciate. As he reached the gate she rose to greet him at the door.

  ‘Hi, babe,’ he greeted her, kissing her and slapping her bottom as he came in. ‘What have you got for your man, then?’

  ‘Got?’ Lily asked.

  ‘Food,’ he went on, ‘grub, tucker. Don’t tell me my tea’s not done.’

  ‘Well, no,’ Lily managed. ‘Sorry, I didn’t know you wanted any. I thought we’d be going out.’

  ‘Hey, don’t get greedy on me, babe. I’m not the sort of guy you can piss around. Do that again and you get a slap. For now I’ll forgive you, seeing as I’m in a good mood, just so long as you get on with it right now. Get us a beer.’

  Despite a determination to tell him what he could do with his food, Lily found herself stammering out an apology and scampering for the fridge. He went into the front room, settling himself into an armchair as she hurried in with the beer. In the kitchen she found frozen steaks, peas and instant mash, which she hastily began to put together. As she did so Ed talked, gloating over how he had stopped a group of kids coming off the French ferry and found both cannabis and ecstasy. The incident had put him in a good mood, to her relief, although his threat to hit her had left her feeling more vulnerable than ever.

  ‘What have you been up to then, babe?’ he called. ‘Been working like a good girl or wanking over the fun we had with Jeff like the dirty bitch you are?’

  ‘I’ve been up to the Wythman,’ she answered, ignoring his crude comment. ‘The barrow on Aldon Hill —’

  ‘Not in that dress, I hope,’ he interrupted.

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘Because your tits show through it, you silly cow. Christ, do you want to go flashing to half the town?’

  ‘Sorry, Ed, I didn’t think. Anyway, Professor Cobb’s team from Exeter are going to open it and I’ve been invited to join them. It’s great.’

  ‘Great for you, digging around in some mouldy old hole,’ he answered, ‘and I’m paying for it, that’s what gets me. Great, I call it, all the tax I pay and what does it get spent on? Some stuck-up old git digging a load of old ruins. Nice work if you can get it, eh?’

  ‘It’s very important work,’ Lily answered in defence.

  ‘Sure,’ Ed answered, laughing, ‘very important, digging a hole so we can learn what sort of dump our ancestors lived in. Yeah, I can see that’s going to make a big difference. Now my work, that’s important, stopping the country getting flooded with drugs and porn, and Jeff’s work, that’s important. You don’t know you’re born.’

  Lily made no response, unable to agree and sure that anything she would say otherwise would just trigger one of his right-wing lectures. He seemed to take her silence as an admission of defeat and she went back to cooking, all the while wishing she had the courage to throw the lot in his face and run for the door. She laid the table as the food cooked, only for him to demand it on a tray while he watched the television, then to criticise her for undercooking the steak. Both times she apologised, then cleared and washed up, returning to find him slumped in his chair, drinking his third beer.

  ‘Be a doll and nip upstairs,’ he ordered as she was about to sit down. ‘You’ll find a pile of mags by the window. At the bottom there’s some weird shit showing a girl with an octopus. Get it, would you? I promised Jeff a look and I’ll forget if I don’t stick it by the door now.’

  Lily’s stomach had wound itself into a tight knot at his words, and for a moment she considered going upstairs and pretending she couldn’t find it, yet she knew such an action would only make it worse in the end. The only way out was to claim she had thrown it away.

  ‘I…I’m afraid I threw it away,’ she stammered. ‘I was tidying up.’

  He turned, slowly, looking her in the face, his expression st
ern.

  ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I don’t ask much in a woman, but one thing I do ask is respect, and respect means not going through my stuff, right?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ed,’ Lily managed. ‘I only —’

  ‘You only nothing,’ he cut in, ‘and you will be sorry if you don’t get your act together. Now get it out and brush it off.’

  ‘It… it’s not here. I threw it out.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s a horrid thing, I didn’t like it. I couldn’t stand it in the house.’

  ‘It’s mine, you stupid bitch, not yours, mine.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ed.’

  ‘Like I said, you will be. Now fetch another beer while I decide what to do with you.’

  Lily obeyed, shivering inside as she wondered what was going to happen. Ed’s anger was false, she was sure of it, or he would simply have hit her. Besides which, after three beers he was bound to be thinking of bed, and doubtless he was going to use the magazine as an excuse to punish her in some way. As she walked back to him she passed the front door and hesitated. All that was needed was to take the handle, twist and run. She would be safe from whatever degradation he was planning, safe from all the humiliation he had inflicted on her, yet she found herself walking past, into the living room, where he took the beer can from her hand without a word.

  She sat, watching him drink beer and wondering why she was so easily put in the thrall of domineering men. It made no sense, at least no logical sense, yet her sex already felt warm and sensitive and for all her reluctance to admit it the answer was obvious. Ed took his time, apparently watching the television, although she was sure he was thinking of what he could do to get the most out of her. Finally he swallowed the last of his beer and turned to her.

  ‘Right,’ he drawled, ‘this is what you get, and you’ll do as you’re told or you’re out. No buts, no ‘‘please, Ed’’,no ‘‘sorry, Ed’’ — just do as you’re told or get out my house. I’m going to fuck your sweet little arse.’

  Lily nodded, the knot in her stomach tightening to a cold, hard ball.