Aspen tilted her head with a little crooked half-smile on her lips, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Rylie rolled her eyes and sighed, “I guess we should… compare or whatever.”
Aspen said, “It’s not that big a deal.”
“It’s not? I think it is. I feel… like an idiot. Or at least foolish. I don’t know. I guess I feel like this is a mistake.”
Aspen laughed a humorless laugh, “Yeah, well, too late now. Let’s inspect the damage.”
Rylie held up a hand, straight out, palm in front, fingers spread, “I don’t want anyone else to know about this. Ever. Got it?
Aspen nodded but pushed Rylie’s hand down, “I do get it and I’ll never tell anyone. But we won’t be the only ones who know unless you go old maid spinster and never get married and never take off your clothes in front of anyone.”
Rylie sighed her regret. What Aspen said was true.
Rylie shrug-flopped her shoulders, “You first.”
Aspen made bugle sounds through a curled hand. Then she posed dramatically, one finger pointing in an arc from left to right.
Aspen was fun and hilarious when she was hamming it up. She was beautiful, that’s what caught the attention of guys right away, but Rylie thought Aspen’s personality glowed ten times brighter than her beauty. Rylie adored Aspen. Rylie always thought she was so lucky to have Aspen as her best friend. In part because she knew Aspen felt the same way about her.
Aspen, like Rylie, was twenty-three. They’d attended the same high school and then the same college and they graduated at the same time. Neither of them was yet gainfully employed yet but… they did have this other thing. This really weird thing. Not exactly a resume builder, but there was potential for a lot of money from it.
Aspen had curly red hair. She was the kind of redhead who had the freckles. Proof of genuine redheadiness as she liked to say. Which wasn’t accurate, as Rylie liked to say, because people other than redheads had freckles. Though probably not as many as Aspen. Her face had more freckle coverage than areas without freckles. Many of the freckles were joined with each other.
Aspen was even slimmer than Rylie and that was saying something. Aspen was a little shorter than average while Rylie was a little taller than average. Rylie had what Aspen liked to claim was wannabe red hair. Also known as auburn. Or, to most people, brown with copper highlights if seen in sunlight.
Aspen stood straight and pulled her tight dark top up to her armpits.
Rylie saw that Aspen wore two thick shirts, two layers of protection, and, once they were lifted, saw that Aspen did not wear a bra.
Aspen said musically, “Ta-da! Ta-da for my ta-tas!”
She wasn’t fooling Rylie. Despite the musical tone, Aspen’s voice had lowered in volume and raised in pitch as she presented her breasts. They were the best of best friends but presenting bare breasts to one another wasn’t something they did on an everyday basis. Or ever.
Rylie kept her face composed. There was no need to react with shock. She had known more or less what she’d see. No need to react in any negative way. They needed to support each other. They were in this together.
Aspen’s nipples were newly pierced.
Aspen told her, “Go ahead. Get a good look.”
Rylie got a good look. She even leaned forward a little. She knew she was supposed to look at the piercings but couldn’t help seeing the full picture.
Aspen had small breasts, ones that swelled with no clear demarcation between breast and chest. They were intensely pale, nearly glowing with pallor like something that grew in a cave. Aspen overall was pale but her chest was even paler than the rest of her. No tanning or nude sunbathing for her. She did have a constellation of freckles across the top of her chest and creeping down onto the gradual slopes of her upper breasts.
Aspen’s nipples were a surprisingly bright pink color. Rylie guessed maybe they weren’t always so bright. They were probably still irritated by the piercings. They did look swollen.
Rylie was startled by the nipple barbells, “Why are they green?”
“She wanted them that way. She picked them out.”
“Sorry, I just expected silver or gold or something.”
“They’re jade. The balls on each side are jade and the metal is titanium. Caihong said they’re super expensive. She said jade represents eternity and is good luck.”
Rylie leaned back into a straight stand, “Eternity, huh? Not so accurate at all. That’s a plus for you. It doesn’t have to be forever. When this is over, you can take them out and the piercings will close over.”
“Yeah. I don’t know if I’ll keep them or not. We’ll see. At least I have the option. By the end of a year, I might be, hee hee, attached to them like they’re attached to me.”
Rylie decided to offer up a positive, “The green goes great with your hair color. And your eyes.”
Aspen nodded in agreement, “That’s one reason why Caihong chose them but she also said it shows respect for their culture. China is big on jade. That Caihong, she’s all about the respect, isn’t she?”
Caihong had harped on respect ad infinitum. She was, if not full of herself, certainly full of Chinese cultural pride.
“Yeah, that old woman trips on China. She’s the most arrogant senior citizen I ever met.”
Aspen stuck up a finger, “And the richest! Don’t forget that!”
“That’s the only reason either one of us put up with her. Or went through what we went through. How bad did it hurt?”
“Bad. But not as bad as I thought it would hurt.”
Rylie tutted, “I never thought you’d get your nipples pierced, and definitely not for a senior citizen rich bitch from China.”
“Life surprises, huh? Hey, how old do you think Caihong is?”
“She says the twins are twenty. She’s their grandmother. Some people are grandparents at the age of forty or even earlier. You know, if their grandchild is an infant. But the twins are twenty which means she has to be at least sixtyish. But she’s wrinkled up and shrunk down. She must be at least seventy. She might be eighty. That is pretty funny. You pierced your nipples for an eighty-year-old!”
“Yeah, well, I did it for me in the long run. At least I didn’t get a tattoo for an eighty-year-old woman like someone I know.”
Aspen pulled her shirts back into place. Then she made a “come here” gesture with both hands, rapidly flexing her fingers towards herself. It was a “give me the money” gesture but Aspen wanted a different payment than cash.
Rylie knew what Aspen demanded.
Fair was fair.
She wasn’t sure which of them came out the worse in this. Maybe her. Aspen’s nipple piercings looked pretty cool. Rylie was sure any guy would like them.
Rylie pushed her sweatpants down but kept her thong up. She turned and jutted her butt out. She’d worn a thong pretty much knowing Aspen would want a look.
Aspen sounded pleased for some reason, “Holy shit, that really stands out! Stands out right where you sit down.”
“Don’t sound so happy about it.”
“I’m not! It’s just very… very. That’s all. Very.”
Aspen was right about that. It was very… very.
In the middle of Rylie’s right ass cheek was a black symbol. It looked like a wilted letter X with two dashes on top, like floating eyebrows.
Rylie said, “It’s the Chinese letter for X.”
Aspen laughed, just a little, “It looks like an X but with eyebrows doing the same thing your future date’s eyebrows will do when they see it.”
Yeah. It did. True that.
Rylie sighed, then asked, “Are you done sightseeing my ass?”
“You have a great ass, Rylie. Aesthetically pleasing. I could look at it all day.”
“Don’t! Are you done?”
“Hey, don’t feel bad, that X with the eyebrows… it, uh… it accentuates your ass.”
“The hell it does. My ass looks like a goddamn pirate map!”
Aspen laughed and laughed, “X marks the spot! Oh, I can make so many jokes about it! I’ll hint to your future dates that they’ve struck the motherload. I’ll tell them you’re a real treasure in bed. Oooo! I know! I’ll tell them the X is where they should plant their flag!”
Rylie groaned, “Don’t do that one! I don’t do anal and I don’t want them to think I ever would. Not even on the hundredth date.”
“I did it twice. Not as bad you think but not any good really.”
“Gross. Just gross.”
“So why did Caihong want you to have the Chinese letter X on your butt?”
“Hm. She said, like she did with you, it was to show respect for the Chinese culture. I guess it gets us in good with the twins. I bet they’re just as arrogant as Caihong.”
Rylie did not share her other theory about the possible reason for this choice of letter. She hoped she was wrong about it.
Rylie turned around and pulled her sweatpants back up.
Aspen tick-tocked a finger at her, “Not so fast, Kemosabe! Everything. Every. Thing. I know there’s another one and I know where it is.”
“Then you know why I don’t want to show it to you.”
“Sure do. That doesn’t mean you don’t have to. Give it up, bitch buddy.”
“Bitch buddy” was one of Aspen’s terms of affection for Rylie. She sometimes varied it by swapping word locations, most often calling Rylie “buddy bitch” when she was drinking. It wasn’t a mean thing.
Rylie tried a last-ditch gambit she pretty well knew would not work. Not on Aspen. Aspen had a way of being enthusiastically insistent.
“Aspen, we never agreed to show off our shaved areas. We only agreed to shave them.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it! Caihong said one of us had to take two piercings and the other one had to get two tattoos. Then we established locations. Nipples for the piercings. Thank God she didn’t want to pierce a clit or this deal would be off. Only a deranged woman would pierce their clit. What if it did damage and you couldn’t orgasm? What if it added too much sensation and you walked around orgasming every ten feet?”
“Piercings don’t do that. But yeah, no way we’d have signed up for this if it included a pierced clit.”
“Don’t play the agreement card with me, bitch buddy. Let’s talk about tattoos. Two tattoos. You showed me one. On your ass as Caihong wanted. Show me the other one. I know where it is. I just don’t know what kind of tattoo it is.”
Fuck. Rylie knew Aspen wouldn’t give this up. And they had agreed to show each other the “damage sustained.” And Aspen had already paid up, showing off both of her pierced nipples.
Rylie regretted choosing the tattoos. Aspen had talked her into accepting the agreement with Caihong. As part of her persuasion, she offered to let Rylie choose her fate. Two tattoos or two piercings.
Piercings had sounded so painful. Rylie had sensitive nipples.
So, she took the tattoos. But she hadn’t thought it out. It was easy to fix piercings. Just stop putting rings or barbells through them and they closed up eventually. And, without rings or barbells, you could barely see them and only if topless. Tattoos could be removed but it was more of a process. And getting them was also painful, probably a lot more painful, at least for longer, than getting pierced.
But the main reason she regretted choosing tattoos was that the tattoos were up to Caihong and they hadn’t thought to clarify what they’d be of. They had assumed Caihong wouldn’t do anything crazy. You know what they said about assuming: It makes for a tattoo on your ass and a super humiliating tattoo on your pubic mound.
They must say that. Too bad Rylie wasn’t familiar with that saying until now when it was too late.
Rylie sighed.
Aspen toned it down a little, “Come on, Rylie, it can’t be that bad. Our little secret. You know I only think more highly of you for doing this with me.”
Rylie sighed again.
She pushed her sweatpants a little down, this time with her thong, but only to the top of her slit.
No pubic hair. Shaved away. That was fine. Rylie was always curious to go bare down there but never had before.
It was the tattoo that was a problem.
Aspen’s mouth fell open. She leaned down a little, widened her eyes, and batted her lashes rapidly.
A couple of seconds passed. Rylie wasn’t much for blushing but her face felt hot with embarrassment.
She couldn’t take Aspen’s lingering reaction of shock, “Aspen! At least close your mouth! I don’t like an open mouth that close to my pussy unless it’s a man I like a lot.”
Aspen snapped her mouth closed, but then opened it again, “Caihong had you get this tattoo? And you let her?”
“I didn’t let her. I just didn’t ask and didn’t look. She was talking Chinese with the tattoo parlor lady. The tattoo was up to Caihong. I knew I had no say. I mean, I would have said something had a known. I would have said, ‘Deal’s off, lady!’ They’d already done my ass, my mind was on that weird X with eyebrows, and it never occurred to me an eighty-year-old self-proclaimed ‘traditional’ Chinese woman would have this tattooed on me.”
Rylie looked down and the friends looked together at the tattoo.
Just above Rylie’s thong-covered slit were four bright red letters that bulged like they were spraypainted on Rylie instead of tattooed there. They were only an inch in height but a millimeter would have been too much.
The letters spelled out “SLUT.”
