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I took another peek out the window and saw a mailman, an old guy who looked ready for retirement. I didn't know myself how I felt about it, but at that moment I just wanted to slink away and hide. "And a paddle, too, from the look of his butt cheeks.
The tattoo artist -- stitching on his vest identified him as Duke -- walked over to Mistress and said, "You told me you had some pictures of the job you want me to do on, um, Pretty Boy over there." She reached into her copious shoulder bag, rummaged around, and came out with an envelope. I'll bet he enjoyed having you work on him." My mind went back to the day those shots were taken.
I got out of it, revealing my hairless chest, all pink and smooth.
She came close to examine me and nodded approvingly.
"Let's go to the dungeon, my sweet little bitch," she said throatily.
The room she was referring to isn't a hardcore dungeon, with heavy equipment, but it's more than enough for me.
The tattoo artist was on the other side of me, leaning back against the counter, observing his 'canvas', which was my lower back.
To add to my discomfort, everyone could see that my body was absolutely denuded of hair, just the way Mistress required me to keep it.To solidify his image as a master of the needle, he also wore a leather vest. I froze as he brushed the tips of his blunt fingers over my lower back.He nodded sagely while chewing on the hair of his untrimmed moustache. That I was looking forward to being permanently marked?A pair of particularly cute girls hesitated out front, one pointing at me and the other laughing out loud.My attention shifted to the guy who was going to decorate my body.
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There's a bed, and she promptly tied my arms behind my back, wrists to opposite elbows, and made my get onto my back on the mattress.