Read Online Marked for Submission by Sheri Savill - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Sheri Savill
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and some of her own blood. She lifted her head a little and gazed down toward her cleft.
Slut. Oh my god. it says “slut.”
Her pussy throbbed, gushed. For a second she felt like she might faint.
The word “slut” was now inked on her mound in a delicate, crisp, black script. Just four little ornately drawn letters, about half an inch tall, and just an inch wide. The letters were beautifully executed, she had to admit. And although it was a shock, and crazy … she had to admit to herself that she liked it. Besides, she rationalized, she could always grow the hair out to cover it up.
“Look at how wet you are,” Mark said, dipping a finger into her pussy, then holding it up. “Jesus. Fucking sopping wet! I think someone liked getting her pussy tattooed. It looks hot, too, Janna, you have to admit. You’re marked now. Labeled.” He was obviously pleased.
He’d said before that he thought tattoos were a symbol of personal power, and that people with tattoos, especially people with lots of them, like full sleeves, were just … stronger … like a force of nature. Invincible was the word he used. She thought his philosophical, almost rhapsodic take on it was interesting enough, but she’d never fully understood what he meant, at a core level, until this moment. Now she had crossed some threshold, and had been marked, really marked, in one of the most intimate of physical and mental experiences she’d ever had in her life. Now she understood. It was powerful. It made her different. It changed her inside: she felt truly fearless for the first time in her life. It was exhilarating.
Chapter 12
“Do you need to take a break?” Mark asked. He was at the side counter rearranging supplies and clearing some of the used items away. “I’m going to finish your arm, otherwise.”
“No, I’m fine, let’s just get it all over with. Keep going, OK?”
“You sure? Sure you don’t want some food? Hot Pocket?” He grinned at her and looked at her from over the top of his black reading glasses, waiting for an answer.
“ Uhh, no thanks.” She giggled.
What the hell? Hot Pockets? Too funny. God, that smile of his. Fuck. Is he ever going to just fuck me? Or at least make me come? I can’t take much more of this.
“Well, this has to come off now. I need this arm. And this hand.”
He grabbed her right wrist and unbuckled the strap that held it to the side of the table, then turned her arm so the underside faced upward. The last bit of unmarked flesh was near the pale softness of her right wrist. She glanced down at the bright blue of the stenciled outline of the final part of the sleeve design and felt a huge sense of relief and achievement. This entire thing had been an ordeal, a trial by fire, but she was glad she’d committed to it, and Mark’s work was astoundingly beautiful. The detail, the level of skill … just breathtaking.
Not much more to go, thank God. I’m almost finished. If I can just hang on another few minutes. This heat in my arm. Shit, it’s like someone holding lighter next to my skin in places.
He pulled her arm toward him and scooted in close on the stool next to the table. She suddenly felt her fingers touching his chest. So close. She wanted to … touch hi m, but something held her back.
Well shit, if he doesn’t want me touching him he shouldn’t grab my wrist and pull my whole arm INTO him like this, should he? Fuc k.
“Just relax, Janna. Let your hand relax.” He was a mind reader, too, apparently. The needle was whirring along on her arm again. She took a deep breath and relaxed her hand and her palm opened. Her fingers fell limp, Her entire hand now pressed firmly, dug in flat, against his hard stomach. He smiled slyly and lifted the needle, then scooted in closer as he roughly moved her arm in still tighter to his body, and lower, so that her hand was now on his hard cock.
Holy shit. He’s hard as a rock and wants me to … know it.
He looked up from her arm
Slut. Oh my god. it says “slut.”
Her pussy throbbed, gushed. For a second she felt like she might faint.
The word “slut” was now inked on her mound in a delicate, crisp, black script. Just four little ornately drawn letters, about half an inch tall, and just an inch wide. The letters were beautifully executed, she had to admit. And although it was a shock, and crazy … she had to admit to herself that she liked it. Besides, she rationalized, she could always grow the hair out to cover it up.
“Look at how wet you are,” Mark said, dipping a finger into her pussy, then holding it up. “Jesus. Fucking sopping wet! I think someone liked getting her pussy tattooed. It looks hot, too, Janna, you have to admit. You’re marked now. Labeled.” He was obviously pleased.
He’d said before that he thought tattoos were a symbol of personal power, and that people with tattoos, especially people with lots of them, like full sleeves, were just … stronger … like a force of nature. Invincible was the word he used. She thought his philosophical, almost rhapsodic take on it was interesting enough, but she’d never fully understood what he meant, at a core level, until this moment. Now she had crossed some threshold, and had been marked, really marked, in one of the most intimate of physical and mental experiences she’d ever had in her life. Now she understood. It was powerful. It made her different. It changed her inside: she felt truly fearless for the first time in her life. It was exhilarating.
Chapter 12
“Do you need to take a break?” Mark asked. He was at the side counter rearranging supplies and clearing some of the used items away. “I’m going to finish your arm, otherwise.”
“No, I’m fine, let’s just get it all over with. Keep going, OK?”
“You sure? Sure you don’t want some food? Hot Pocket?” He grinned at her and looked at her from over the top of his black reading glasses, waiting for an answer.
“ Uhh, no thanks.” She giggled.
What the hell? Hot Pockets? Too funny. God, that smile of his. Fuck. Is he ever going to just fuck me? Or at least make me come? I can’t take much more of this.
“Well, this has to come off now. I need this arm. And this hand.”
He grabbed her right wrist and unbuckled the strap that held it to the side of the table, then turned her arm so the underside faced upward. The last bit of unmarked flesh was near the pale softness of her right wrist. She glanced down at the bright blue of the stenciled outline of the final part of the sleeve design and felt a huge sense of relief and achievement. This entire thing had been an ordeal, a trial by fire, but she was glad she’d committed to it, and Mark’s work was astoundingly beautiful. The detail, the level of skill … just breathtaking.
Not much more to go, thank God. I’m almost finished. If I can just hang on another few minutes. This heat in my arm. Shit, it’s like someone holding lighter next to my skin in places.
He pulled her arm toward him and scooted in close on the stool next to the table. She suddenly felt her fingers touching his chest. So close. She wanted to … touch hi m, but something held her back.
Well shit, if he doesn’t want me touching him he shouldn’t grab my wrist and pull my whole arm INTO him like this, should he? Fuc k.
“Just relax, Janna. Let your hand relax.” He was a mind reader, too, apparently. The needle was whirring along on her arm again. She took a deep breath and relaxed her hand and her palm opened. Her fingers fell limp, Her entire hand now pressed firmly, dug in flat, against his hard stomach. He smiled slyly and lifted the needle, then scooted in closer as he roughly moved her arm in still tighter to his body, and lower, so that her hand was now on his hard cock.
Holy shit. He’s hard as a rock and wants me to … know it.
He looked up from her arm
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