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.it was real 'body jewelry' and so femme andslutty/innocent at the same time...just the way Daddy likes...In the belly button case next to it, I found a pink flower in the sameshade, dangly and sitting so pretty in a silver setting with a clearrhinestone at the middle.Nicole was standing next to me... "Tell me," she said...her voice muchmore femme and wispy than at the front desk, now that the sissies arealone."Um....the..uh...pink hearts there, and the flower?" The cutest," she said slyly... "Take off your shirt and sit down."I turned and saw how she had prepared the chair, draped with a fluffy newtowel with the salon's logo on it, warmed and waiting for me. I took myshirt off - it felt so strange unbuttoning this men's button-down officeshirt, to get this done to myself...I was fully in it now I guess...."Soooo....first piercing ever-ever-ever, right?" she asked me, taking outa new boxed set of the pink hearts from under the glass cabinet.I nodded."Good girl. Trish they are so much. But as I got older, I noticed you looking at me slightly differently. One time was when I was doing my laces up in front of my house and you came out to say hello. As I was bent over, I was sure you were staring at my bum in my short skirt. Instead of being offended, I was turned on, and I kept thinking about it afterwards.After a week or so, when I couldn't get it off my mind, I decided to see for sure if you liked me in the way I suspected. I knew that next Saturday my parents would be taking my sister out for the day and wouldn't be back till eight. I knew the weather was going to be hot and sunny, and I also knew that you liked to garden on sunny Saturday afternoons.So that Saturday, as my parents went out, I went up to my room. I was wearing a white vest top, pink bra, knickers, and grey trackie bottoms. Once in my room, I took off my top and let it drop to the floor, and unclasped my bra letting it do the same. I slid my hands down the side of my knickers and slid them down.
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” He wasn’t asking a question. My first thought was that I must have misinterpreted the vision, but it was clearly different in my mind. I shook my head.“No, it wasn’t. It was similar in size but it was straight, not curved, and it was a lighter color.” He held up the other item given to him by the young man. It was the feather I saw in my hair. “Yes! That is it.” A murmur went through the people as it became clear that the old man had tried to trick me.He smiled and patted my knee. “You know what the feathers mean, the difference?”I knew. Maybe not as completely as he might explain, but I knew. I held the staff and bow in my lap. He handed the other feather to one of the women who fastened it into my long hair on the left back side of my head. The feathers looked similar, but I knew they weren’t. The one in my hair was eagle. The ones on the staff and my bow were owl. Eagle and owl … I remembered from my years of growing up in the American Southwest that tourist traps often passed.

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