Look, smol Kitty Witless is a precious little gem and I want to cuddle with her and brush her pretty hair as she sings me her songs
MILF Kitty Witless can step on me, call me her silly little slut, spit in my mouth, use me as a footstool, sit on my face reading a book or something... I am too weak for her.
A/N The story takes place in gold rush era Seattle where Jinkx and the girls perform in a revue at one of the many watering holes frequented by the tide of prospectors.
“Who’s the new girl?” Jinkx asked as she tossed her fan on the vanity and began removing her gloves, finger by finger.
Kitty turned in her seat to look across the room. “Not sure,” she replied, “she’s from up the Territory so we’ve just been calling her Alaska.”
“Alaska…” Jinkx repeated, looking over the lanky young thing standing by the costume rack. “Is it the cold up there keeps you so thin?” she taunted.
Alaska turned to look at the curvy ginger girl calling her out by the makeup mirrors. She rested her hands on her narrow hips and shouted back, “Well we don’t get enough satin up there to make dresses any bigger.”
Jinkx laughed. Thank god this one had a sense of humor. They never lasted long if they didn’t. She crossed the dressing room to the costume rack, stopping next to the new girl and turning her back.
“Be a dear and unlace me,” Jinkx said as she stepped out of her heels. Alaska fumbled at the knot for a minute before undoing it and tugging at the laces of the heavily boned brocade. Jinkx turned to face her with one eyebrow raised as she unhooked the busk.
“I… sorry…” Alaska apologized, “We don’t wear them very often up north. I’ve never tried to undo someone else’s before.”
“Well you’ll be wearing one all the damn time if you stick around here,” Jinkx quipped. “Are you looking to stick around?”
“If there’s enough work,” Alaska answered.
“Well there’s definitely plenty of that,” Jinkx replied as she shimmied out of her overskirt. “What with Ellie married off to a mill owner and Kitty over there in a family way.”
Alaska glanced over at the sandy-haired girl Jinkx had been talking to earlier, who smiled back and placed a hand over the bump that was just beginning to show.
“So whaddaya do?” Jinkx inquired as she wrapped her everyday corset back around her chemise.
“I can sing,” Alaska answered, taking Jinkx’s laces in hand and tying her in.
“Not too tight,” Jinkx warned, “I intend to fit a meal in there.” She pulled her day frock from its hanger and stepped into it, turning her back to Alaska once again to present her with the long line of buttons. As Alaska’s nimble fingers made their way up her torso she asked, “Dance?”
“Nooooo…” Alaska drawled. “Mama said I was born with two left feet. Makes it hard to buy shoes.”
Jinkx found herself laughing for the second time. “Good,” she exclaimed, “I can keep top billing then.” She stepped into her street shoes and bent to fasten them. As she straightened back up she looked the new girl in the eye. “I like you Alaska. Come have supper with me and I’ll explain the ropes.”
