A Dutch Blonde and A cinematic fantasy.
It is not the most important, but if it is not there, the others will never be enough. You cannot train a dog that is not in your house, Keiko."
Carefully, steadily, Keiko inscribed the sigil onto Dahlia's body. A part of her noticed that instead of wincing in pain, Dahlia sighed softly as the needles lightly pierced her flesh. That was good. Some people got the endorphin rush, some didn't. Keiko was glad to see that Dahlia did. It wouldn't change the course of events one way or another, but it would make it more pleasant for Dahlia.
Afterwards, Keiko explained a few tips for care of the tat during the first couple of weeks, how to avoid infection, exchanged both small talk and money with Dahlia, and watched the woman she loved walk out the door.
On her ankle, she wore the first element. Not the most important, but the one that would ensure the the others. In the ancient tongue, it read simply, Return.
Even so, it took almost a month before she saw Dahlia again. Keiko hadn't been worried. Well, maybe she'd been a little worried. Hers was the first generation to grow up in a time of laser tattoo removal; she'd already defied her ancestors and shamed her family, it'd be kind of embarrassing if it all turned out to be for nothing because Dahlia had zapped the tat away. But when she heard the chime and saw Dahlia walk in again, her worries melted away. Perhaps that was why her panties felt so wet.
"Hi," Dahlia said. "I know this sounds...well, not dumb. I mean, you obviously must like getting tattoos yourself, or you wouldn't do it for a living. But I just never thought I'd want another one." She giggled a bit, clearly trying to cover her own uncertainty. She didn't know why she'd come back here, and she was trying to hide it. "But I guess I must, or I wouldn't have come back."
Keiko nodded. She didn't trust her own voice right now. She was going to have to close the shop for a bit once Dahlia had left, she could tell.
Plenty, Keiko thought. I've got a bed in the next room, a box full of toys under it, and a vivid imagination. But all she said was, "Let me go get my book."
As soon as she got into the back room, she let out a long, shuddering sigh. Dahlia was hers now. Like a fly in a web. Did Father feel this way when he etched the sigils into Mother's flesh? She suddenly calmed down more than a little. Nothing got your mind off sex quite like thinking about your parents having it. She grabbed the book and walked back in.
"I was thinking we might try something a little more elaborate," she said as she returned. "Say, something on your back?"
Dahlia blinked, a little startled. "I was just thinking maybe another one of those characters," she said.
"Oh, I was still thinking about doing those, but I thought maybe two or three, a sort of sentence. We can put it below your neckline if you're worried about it being seen at work."
Dahlia looked down at her long-sleeved shirt, and over at her parasol. "I don't tend to wear a lot of revealing clothes," she said ruefully. Keiko clenched the book a little tighter, but Dahlia didn't notice.
"Trust me, it'll look great." And soon, I won't ever have to say that first part again, Keiko thought.
Dahlia glanced over at the door with a worried expression, and Keiko eagerly leapt over to lock it and pull down the shade. Taking a deep breath, Dahlia slipped her shirt and bra off.
Keiko refused to let herself stare.