Becoming Kitty Read online

  Becoming Kitty

  By JJ Argus

  Copyright 2015

  Electronic edition

  JJ Argus has written more than 250 novels, and been published in hardcover, softcover, and innumerable magazines and digests. This work is the result of the long, hard effort and creativity of the author. Please do not post or resell it without permission.

  This story is a work of fiction. All characters are over eighteen.

  Chapter One

  I felt a huge wave of depression as I passed my dad's doorway. My father was busy packing up, and like every other reminder of late it made my stomach roll unhappily. I resented the fact he'd accepted an assignment overseas, and even worse that it was in freaking Saudi Arabia!

  My mother had died when I was six, leaving just me and my dad. So the prospect of being orphaned for six months did not please me. That wasn't what was really depressing me, though. What was really depressing me was that I had to go and live with my dad's ex wife Kathleen.

  I had never really liked Kathy. My dad had married her when I was eleven, and I'd found her bossy and arrogant. We'd lived together for three years before they'd split. She lived alone with her daughter Erin, who was okay. I mean, she and I had kind of gotten along, though she was pretty nerdy.

  Now, when I was practically almost eighteen, I was going to have to go and live with them for six months! Why couldn't I live on my own? Because we weren't rich, and we lived in a rented apartment which he could give up, and no way was he going to let me stay here alone.

  He turned and saw me and I scowled.

  “Don't start again, Sierra,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes and flounced off, doing my best to show, with body language, how indignant I was.

  If he'd just waited until next year! I'd be eighteen and maybe working or at least in college! No, he had to go now! I had no money, and he was saving money by cutting a deal with Kathy to put me up.

  In fact, I'd be eighteen not long after he left! Not that the magic number impressed him much. He didn't trust me to be alone, and that frustrated me even while, okay, I admit, I'm not the world's most obedient teenager, and yes I like to party, and yes, I like boys, and maybe I have been, on occasion, a little irresponsible.

  But living with that... that Nazi! Ugh!

  Imagine a woman who is short, very straight-backed, with her jaw permanently clenched. She has short brown hair and glasses, and looks down her nose at you all the time like you're some kind of trashy idiot!

  And I had little doubt that Erin was just the same by now. She'd been pretty nerdy and prissy and rules-bound even when she was eleven.

  What made it even more frustrating was that I was graduating from high school two days before he left! That was like... freedom, you know? But instead I was going to a gulag in the boondocks! Kathy lived thirty miles south of the city, on the edge of suburbia, which was fine if you had a car. I didn't, and wasn't going to, unless Kathy let me use hers.

  Stuck in the boonies with her and Erin! Ugh! What the hell was I supposed to do for six fucking months!?

  What was my dad's response? To make it sound like I was going to a resort! Oh, they have a pool, and they're on the river, and there's lots of space to canoe and kayak and there's internet and everything! Big whoop! He also suggested Kathy might get me a part time job at the law firm where she works, which, believe me, did not fill me with any enthusiasm!

  I love to party. I LOVE to party! I love dancing! I can easily dance for hours and hours, going from one club to another! It was especially good since I didn't have to pay for any of it! That's what boys are for, after all.

  I know, I know, I should be act more modest and want to share the costs and everything, but hey, boys will pay for me, so why shouldn't I accept it? I'm hot and blonde and I have a fabulous body, so I'm getting the benefits. I know I shouldn't take pride in my looks since it's basically just genetics, but should I be embarrassed about them?

  It's not like I don't exercise, either, since I hate flab! And, my boobs are a nice size, which means if I don't exercise they're going to start sagging in a few years, and that's like, yucky. I love the effect on guys when they see my boobs! I love it when the top comes off and they stare like a kid in a candy store!

  Not that I'm super busty, not really. I mean, I'm a thirty-two D cup, but I'm also five feet ten inches tall, so, while I'm reasonably slender, I don't really look top heavy. But on the other hand, no one is going to mistake me for a guy!

  So I have long legs, great legs, and they love to dance! What's a crime about that!? There's no way I could afford all the drinks and cover charges, not to mention the travel by myself. Daddy made an okay living but he was middle class, and not rich. The assignment in the middle east would, he hoped, pay enough that he could buy a house.

  Whoopy, just as I was getting set to leave home anyway! Not yet, though. I needed to either get a good job, or, more likely, go to college. I was pretty sure I'd have the marks for that, and part of the reason for him going to the middle east was to pay for my tuition.

  So it's probably kind of wrong to be bitchy about it, but... I can't help it!

  Six months with that awful troll woman! I had done my best to avoid her when we'd lived together before, but now it would be in her house!

  And why did she have a house? Because she'd married someone else a year after leaving us, and divorced him too! Only she'd socked him for some kind of big divorce settlement. Fucking lawyers!

  Maybe I should be a lawyer, I thought unhappily, except the thought of spending all day, all my life, reading legal documents was enough to make me want to slit my fucking wrists! I had no idea what I wanted to do in life but I knew I didn't want to spend all my time at a desk or a computer.

  I liked people. I'm a people person. Maybe I should work in a hotel or restaurant? Except you make shitty wages. I'd worked at restaurants off and on, mostly off, since they kept firing me.

  It's not that I'm not a good employee, but I have schedule issues, you know, especially if I'm out late. I mean, if I meet a hot guy what am I supposed to do, tell him goodbye since I have to get up early to work in a coffee shop the next morning?! And what difference does it fucking make anyway if they have to call someone else in? Big deal! Everyone makes such a big deal out of little shit like that!

  But when I was eighteen I could work in bars, or at least, in clubs. I could get big tips there. Some of the girls I knew who worked in them, like those sports bars where they wore those short kilts and the tight tank tops, pulled in a ton of tips.

  I look great in a short skirt and tight top! And I'm a great flirt! I knew I would make a lot of money!

  Were there sports bars out in the boonies? Probably, but probably they didn't have guys who made much money going to them so there wouldn't be great tips. Probably the customers would be farmers!

  And clubs! Forget about it! There weren't any clubs out there! Where was I supposed to dance!?

  Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! It was going to be a nightmare!

  Part of why I was sulking was because I didn't really have much of an argument. I mean, what else was I supposed to propose? He'd already given up the lease, so I couldn't stay here. I had no money so I couldn't rent a place myself. I had some friends I could stay with, but not for six months!

  So I was content to sulk in order to demonstrate how unhappy I was. I knew it wouldn't change anything, but I knew he wouldn't like it, and it served him right!

  *

  To save him the drive, Kathy would pick me up when she was in town and drive me back to her place. I wasn't happy about that, either. I wondered if I could convince her to not take me. But then, what was I going to do? I couldn't go with dad to the middle east. He'd have to call off his posting, then, which might get him fi
red, and then I'd definitely not be going to college any time soon!

  So that was out.

  She stopped by to pick me up, in a shiny Black SUV. She was wearing a business suit, of course, with her hair in perfect alignment, cut in a kind of short pageboy, and wearing frameless glasses.

  The two of them greeted each other like old friends, which only made me more unhappy. I mean, if they liked each other why get divorced? Not that I was complaining about them getting divorced, believe me! The woman was too bossy for words!

  “So,” she said, looking me up and down with that patented slightly raised eyebrow thing she was so good at.

  “So,” I said casually.

  Yes, I knew damn well she didn't approve of my tight, low hung jeans, or my midriff baring top. But if you got it, flaunt it is my motto. And in contrast to her perfectly coiffed hair mine was tousled and loose in the wind, and hung halfway down my back.

  “Good morning, Sierra,” she said.

  I nodded and shrugged.

  “It's so good to hear your voice. It's so sweet and melodic,” she said.

  I scowled. “Hi,” I said.

  “You can put your suitcases in the back of the car,” she said.

  Which was like, telling me she sure wasn't going to do it. I felt irritated at that, but shrugged again and picked up a couple of suitcases, carrying them to the car. I had a lot of them, of course, and neither of them helped me! I had to troop back and forth carrying them and shoving them into the back of her stupid car while they chatted like old friends!

  Luckily, there was lots of room there, because I had a lot of clothes. I wasn't sure what I'd be doing, after all. For all I knew I'd be wearing jeans all the time, like some farm girl.

  I let my father hug and kiss me goodbye, and at least made an effort to be nice. I mean, he was going away for six months. Then I got into the car with Kathy and she started away from the curb.

  And started in on me!

  “Do you always dress like that?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Like what?'

  “Provocatively.”

  I frowned. “Provocatively? Everyone dresses like this.”

  “Not everyone. Those jeans are very low hanging, and that top is very tight.”

  “I'm not shy,” I said. “And if you got it, flaunt it.”

  “That's one way to go. But it means every guy who looks at you is going to think about sex.”

  “Every guy who looks at me is always going to think about sex,” I said. “Unless I wear a freaking burka.”

  “You have a point, I suppose,” she said. “Erin dresses much more conservatively.”

  “I'll bet. I bet she doesn't have as many boyfriends as me.”

  “How many do you need?”

  “Enough to pay for my drinks and dancing,” I said with a smirk.

  “You're not eighteen yet.”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Like you never drank before you turned eighteen.”

  “Drinking clouds the mind. I like my mine to be clear.”

  “I like to have fun. I bet I have a lot more fun than you or Erin.”

  “Well, maybe you used to.”

  I looked at her warily. “What's that mean?”

  “It means that the legal age of drinking in this state is twenty one. You will not be drinking while you're at my place.”

  “I doubt you have any beer anyway.”

  “You will not be going out to drink while at my place.”

  I rolled my eyes again. Like she was gonna know anyway!

  “What do you plan on doing in the coming months?”

  “I have no idea. I don't know what's to do out in the boonies.”

  “Did you plan on working?”

  “If I can. My friend Annie works in a sports bar and she makes a ton of tips. I was going to apply there when I was eighteen.”

  “A sports bar,” she said with a sniff.

  “They pay really big tips.”

  “Let me guess. The waitresses wear tight tops and short shorts.”

  “Short skirts,” I said.

  “You really want to be a sex object?”

  “Sure, why not?” I said, fairly sure that would piss her off.

  Then, just to make sure, I added. “I like sex.”

  She turned briefly and gave me a flinty eyed look.

  I wondered if her precious Erin was still a virgin. It wasn't even like they were religious, so I had no idea why she was so prissy.

  “Your father was hoping you could learn a little discipline while with me,” she said.

  “Uh huh.”

  “Maybe Erin could teach you. She's a careful, responsible, intelligent girl.”

  I rolled my eyes again.

  “You do that a lot, you know. It's irritating.”

  “What?”

  “Rolling your eyes as if you're so much smarter.”

  “I didn't say I was smarter than you.”

  God! I'd been in her car less than five minutes and we were already fighting!

  “You think you are, but you'll learn differently,” she said.

  “I'll be eighteen in like three days,” I said.

  “Congratulations.”

  “That means I'll be an adult.”

  She shrugged. “What does that mean anyway? It means you can join the army. Are you planning on joining the army?”

  I rolled my eyes again.

  “It means you can vote. But there aren't any elections this year.”

  “It means I can do what I want!”

  She laughed. “Nobody does what they want, little girl, except maybe Donald Trump. If you're filthy rich and own the company you can usually, though not always, do what you want. Everyone else has to do what society or their boss, or their school or their lover or their parents or someone else wants at least a substantial period of the time.”

  I shrugged.

  “And the less money you have, the more you have to do what other people want. How much money do you have again, dear?”

  I scowled and looked out the side window.

  Oh this was going to be lots of fun!

  Chapter Two

  Her place was surprisingly large given it only had one story. It didn't look that large when we pulled up. It was at the end of a hundred foot dirt road through trees and brush. It was red brick, one story, but with a high peaked roof. It had a three car garage, and one of the doors opened as she arrived and pressed a button on the ceiling of the car.

  She turned, then backed smoothly in and stopped. The garage had a high roof, and we were parked next to a pickup truck, Beyond that was a riding mower and a whole bunch of junk like spare tires and boxes and lawn furniture.

  “Welcome to your new home sweet home,” she said.

  I shrugged. We hadn't exactly gotten into friendly conversation on the way.

  There was a set of stairs at the rear, with a door up on the landing. It opened and Erin came out. It had been three years but the amazing thing was she hadn't changed at all! I mean, she still had shoulder length brown hair. She wore these dark brown oval framed glasses, and she was still about five feet two and kind of flat chested.

  “Hi Sierra! Welcome to your new home!” she said with a smile.

  “Hi,” I said, forcing a smile. “It's been a while. You've hardly changed at all.”

  “Not you! You're so tall now!” she said, giving me a hug.

  Well, she was always a friendly girl.

  She opened the rear of the car, and pulled out a couple of suitcases. I grabbed a couple and followed her up the stairs and through the door into the house.

  Right in front of us was a staircase leading down. It had a wooden bannister all around it, with the opening just to the left. Past it on the left, was a small bedroom, and a bathroom. But she headed right down the stairs.

  The hallway was hardwood but the stairs were carpeted. I started to follow her but felt fingers sliding into the waistband of my jeans and tugging me back.

  “
Shoes off before going on the carpet,” Kathy ordered.

  I grumbled, but toed off my shoes, then followed Erin down the narrow staircase. To the left was a doorway into another hall, and I followed Erin to a room at the end. It was surprisingly bright and roomy. The window was large, and while the bed and furniture were fairly plain it wasn't a bad place. It was bigger than my room in our apartment.

  “This is nice,” I said.

  “I hope you'll be happy here! I'm sure we'll have lots of fun together!” Erin said happily.

  Uh huh.

  We went back to the stairs, and she stopped and opened the next door.

  “This is my room!' she said.

  It looked a lot more lived in than mine, but it was extremely neat, with no clothes on the floor or bras draped on the corners of bedposts or anything like that. There was lots of lace and chintz. The bed had a canopy, for gods sakes, along with a pile of cushions! And the tables next to it had lacy white table covers!

  The next room along was an exercise room. For a basement, by the way, the ceilings were nice and high. This room was as big as the two bedrooms combined, and it had a rowing machine, a treadmill, a complicated looking weight machine and mats for yoga, along with big mirrors on the walls and a big flat screen.

  I did a double-take when I saw the pole. It was a silver pole, in the corner, and I couldn't guess at its purpose except for....

  “That's for pole dancing,” Erin said, catching me staring.

  I stared at her and she blushed.

  “It's not stripping,” she said firmly. “It's exercise! And it builds your core and helps build up your arms, shoulders, thighs, and almost everything else! It's great exercise!

  “Uh, okay,” I said. “I just wouldn't figure you would be doing something like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well...”

  “It's not sexual! Honestly, people need to get over that!”

  “Well, it can be sexy.”

  “If you're in a thong and some men are watching,” she said, frowning.

  I smiled. “Do you even own a thong?”

  She frowned at me. “I don't need to own a thong! Why would I own a thong? They make no sense as underwear at all.”