Tiffany Gets Decorated

CHAPTER TWO

**Tiffany meets Linda and Marlene at the tattoo parlor.**

The appointment with the tattoo artist was schedule for nine o'clock. He would have booked us earlier but he didn't get in to work until then. He slept all day and kept his shop open all night. Most of his patrons -- the ones who asked for him by name -- were nightowls. His reputation was huge, he'd been in all of the ink magazines and did the convention circuit. He had three apprentices working with him. That was the part that appealed to me -- I would have an audience watching her as she got her first real marks.

It was only a few minutes after eight when we left the restaurant. I flagged down a taxi and looked in at the driver. He was a young guy, maybe in his late twenties. I waved him on.

Tiffany looked at me, puzzled. I smiled. "You'll see."

The next driver was an overweight, greasy-haired old man with a dirty beard and stained grey shirt. I saw tattoos running down his left forearm and onto his big, cigarette holding hand. I opened the front door and motioned for Tiffany to slide in beside him. "Get in." She stared with me with panic in her eyes while the driver pushed a half-eaten sandwich and a paperback novel onto the floor. He gave a big grin that showed cracked yellow teeth and patted the stained leather seat. "Sure, honey, I don't bite," he said with a slow, gravelly voice. "Come on, sit down."

Tiffany bent down, turned, and rested her bottom tentatively on the seat -- like it was on fire. She swung her legs in, keeping them pressed tightly together, then pulled the door closed. She stayed as close to the door as she could, leaning her shoulder against the window.

I watched him look her over three times, head to toes, a big smile on his face. When I slammed the back door, he turned to me and asked, "where to, Chief?"

"We're getting our first tattoo," I said calmly.  "Just head north." He put the taxi in gear but didn't flip the meter. He merged into traffic quickly and did his best to split his time evenly between watching the road and taking in as much of Tiffany as he could.

He asked who was getting the tattoo. It was like a gift from fate.

"Tiffany, the man asked a question," I said without turning my head. I saw her suck in a quick breath and squirm. "Aren't you going to answer him?"

The driver turned to stare, his eyes locked on her cleavage and nipples. I heard him give a little laugh. "It's OK, honey, I see it all the time. Nice, upper class girls like you don't like to talk about their tattoos, do they?"

"No, no, I'm not..." she protested, then stopped.

The driver turned his head and looked at me, gauging how far he could go. I nodded and smiled. "So what are we doing tonight, honey? A nice little butterfly? Your daddy's name? He is your sugar daddy, ain't he?"

It was quiet in the cab for a few seconds. I said, "actually, the tattoo's for me. She's just an escort." It had the expected effect on Tiffany, she blushed red and pressed her legs together tighter. The driver was quiet for a few minutes.

"I can give you her number if you like, maybe you can get a finder's fee for some out of town businessman?" I leaned forward and whispered to him, loud enough for her to hear:  "A lawyer who likes to spank Asian girls? She loves a good spanking and gives a great blowjob." She moaned quietly and I saw her moving her knees as I talked about her.

"Just talking about it gets her hot. Are you juicing, dear?" I asked. "It's a word I learned from her. Juicing. Isn't that right, Tiffany?" I paused. "Tell the man what it means, dear." She whispered. "It means my vagina is getting wet."

"Yer what?" he grunted.

"She means her pussy," I said. Tiffany's face reddened. I turned back to the driver. "She'd a pricey little whore, but worth it. Tightest asshole in town. She loves it down there." Tiffany - an ass virgin if there ever was one - was mortified and turned a brighter shade of red.

The driver remained quiet for a few minutes, then asked if I wanted to stop anywhere on the way.

"I'm glad you asked. We do need to pick up a pair of panties."  Tiffany wiped her eyes and tried to regain her composure. "She forgot hers."

The driver looked at her again, this time, focusing on her hips and legs. He smiled and licked his lips. "There's a nice Victoria's Secret a few blocks out of the way," he offered.

"That sounds tasty." I turned to Tiffany. "I'll bet your customers like you in your Victoria's Secret panties?"

"Yes. Yes, Sir, they do," Tiffany said weakly.

"She's not wearing any right now, you know," I said. The driver's eyebrows rose just slightly. "I'm hoping she doesn't leave a damp spot on your seat. She gets wet a lot down there...when I talk about her."

"Likes to show off, eh?" he asked, taking a drag from his cigarette. He blew the smoke in her direction, watched her nose twitch. "These Asian chicks..." I saw him look at me in the mirror, wondering if he'd gone too far. I nodded. "...love to show off their bodies." I nodded again and he loosened up. "Yeah, I see it all the time. The designer clothes, everything tight, you can see every line, you know? And the Come Fuck Me Jimmy Choo's, and the eye makeup. Damn!"

I laughed. "I know what you mean. You know what he means, don't you, Tiffany?"

Barely audible, she said, "Yes, Sir, I know what he means."

"Here we are." The driver pulled up in front of the store. "Now, before you go in, I need to make it very clear to you. You are *not* to use the bathroom. Is that understood?" Tiffany shuddered and I knew she'd thought about it. "Yes, Sir."  She opened the door and slid out, went into the store alone. She came back quickly carrying a bag. I motioned for her to get in the front seat again and she did, hugging the window like before.

"You didn't wear the panties out of the store?" Tiffany blushed. "No, Sir." "So, you're still naked underneath your dress?" I turned my eyes to see the driver. He was grinning as I expected. "Well, no loss. You don't get to keep panties on very long anyway, do you?" She was silent.

"So, where to?" he asked.

"Take us to Uncommon Inks on..."

"...on Superior Drive. I know it. Carson's place right?"

I nodded and he turned the taxi around, heading north toward the tattoo parlor. On the way, I asked if he knew of a barber shop near the place. He told me there was one on the same block, so I asked him to drop us there.

"You're not gonna do anything to that beautiful head of hair there, are you?"

I waited a few seconds then said, "we'll see."

The rest of the ride was quiet. When we were a few blocks away, I asked if he wanted Tiffany to suck his cock. He laughed and said he had a wife to get home to and she's kick his ass if she found lipstick smears on his underwear. I gave him a rain check, told him to call her anytime and to put it on my tab.

---

"What number did you give him?" Tiffany asked as the driver pulled away.

"I just made one up." I said, sliding my wallet back into my pocket. "You were very good back there."

Tiffany blushed and said softly, "thank you, Sir." I nodded. "Sir, I still need to pee." I nodded again and started walking. We walked up the block until we came to the big plate glass front of a place called "Sergeant Cutter's Place".

"Sir, this is a men's barber shop, not a beauty salon."

"Yes," I said and pointed at the glass.

There were dozens of 18 X 24 inch photos in the window, all framed, all showing what to her must have looked like relics. Black and white photos with haircuts that could have been demos for Mad Men. Along the bottom row were the more mundane cuts. I pointed at one and she leaned down. It was a traditional men's brush cut -- the sides completely shaven and the top flat and spiked. Her eyes locked on the picture and I let her stand there a long time. I'm not exactly certain what she was thinking but I can guess.

"How would you look in that?"

"gyrl would look good like that. Once gyrl's ears are pierced," she said without looking up. "Sir."

I shook my head. I pretty much hated the Gor references, but I knew it that they "made her juice" (as she'd written a hundred times) so I let her go on. "That is one option. There are others," I said, pointing to a pixie-looking Goth haircut.

While she stared at it, I looked up and down the street. There were a few people a block or so away but traffic was heavy. From the other direction, a couple of men in 50's style leather gear and greased back hair were heading toward us. I ran my hand along the back of her neck, took a fistful of hair and pushed her face closer to the glass. She struggled, eyes turned to look at the pair as they came closer.

"Kiss him." She squirmed but I held her tight and repeated it. "Kiss the photo."

She hesitated for a second, then pushed her lips against the glass, felt the grime and,quickly pulled away. "Do it," I barked. She started again, kissing with closed lips. "Use your tongue," I growled. "No," she whispered, kissing the dirty glass again lightly. "Are you forgetting the photos? Mommy and daddy? Do you want them to see the pictures of their dear little girl at college?" Tears welled in her eyes as she leaned forward and opened her mouth. She pressed her tongue against the cool, dirty glass, wiping up and down the picture's clean-shaven cheek.

The couple stopped and watched. They held hands, giggled.

"You go, girl. I like him too, honey," the shorter one with the blonde hair said.

"Oh, do you?" the other man snapped.

"Don't be jealous, he's hers, isn't he?" Blondie snickered. He leaned his head against Brownhair's chest.

"Tiffany. Rub your titties against the glass." Brownhair looked at me and smiled. "Obedience training?" I nodded. Tears ran down her cheeks as she pressed her body against the window, her chest moving in small circles, the grime staining the front of her white dress.

"Ooooh, she *really* likes him..." Blondie purred.

I slid the toe of my shoe along her leg, sliding her skirt up until it bunched around her hips. "She's soaking wet," I said with a grin. "Not that you'd much care..."

Brownhair laughed and stroked Blondie's hair and said, "this one might. I like to watch him switch sometimes." He pulled Blondie close and they kissed, tongues probing deep, hands exploring denim and leather.

"Either of you want a blowjob?" I asked casually. Both of them snorted. "Yeah, maybe. We'll see when we get home." They walked away laughing while Tiffany cried and licked the face now in broad, wide circles.

"Enough," I said. Tiffany dropped to the sidewalk, head down, breathing hard. She wiped her eyes then gave me an angry glare. "David...Sir, we're in *public*."

I waited a few seconds, then said, "...and?"

Tiffany didn't answer. I could see something like rage behind eyes but she stayed quiet. We stood there in silence for another few seconds, then I calmly pointed out a buzz cut. "Here's another possibility."

She didn't answer.

"Do you like that one, Tiffany? Would it show off your earrings?"

"Yes, Sir, that would display my piercings very nicely."

- - -

Uncommon Ink wasn't exactly what I'd expected. It looked more like a high-end martini bar than a sleazy tattoo parlor. Floor to ceiling mirrors along one wall reflected the class and polished chrome cases and shelves along the other. There was even an espresso machine but it didn't look like it got much use. There were two refrigerators against the back wall, brushed stainless fronts, extra wide doors. Not your grandfather's tattoo parlor.

About two feet down from the twelve foot ceiling -- and covering the entire back well -- were awards and samples of Carson's art. I didn't know a lot about tattoos, but I had to admit his work was impressive. The photos showed that his work was colorful and inventive, with a precision that any Old Master would have admired.

Behind the counter, two distracted looking women with short cropped black hair and skintight black mini-dresses watched us walk through the door. I saw Tiffany straighten up, her hips swayed just a bit, her step shortened. I smiled. She sensed competition and instinctively turned up the tease factor. I wondered if she even realized she'd done it. Probably not. After years of primping and strutting, no doubt it just came natural. I noticed her shift her body to present her small titties as best she could, shoulders back slightly and spine arched. She was a B cup (34B-25-34) but that was no surprise to me -- I hadn't seen many full-racked Asian women. Looking at the two well-endowed girls behind the counter no doubt triggered the narcissistic and competitive part of her brain. One of the women -- the shorter one -- was sitting on a high stool filing her nails. They were long and painted black to match her eyelids and lips. She raised a finger and blew softly. A cloud of particles floated to the countertop. She looked at Tiffany and smiled. Tiffany squirmed.

The other woman -- the older one with a no-nonsense look on her face -- leaned against the wall, arms and legs crossed.

"Hi. Is this her?" the taller woman asked. Tiffany turned and looked at her, immediately lowering her eyes when their gazes met. They ranged over the woman's body, locking on the four or five inches of flesh exposed between the bottom of the skirt and the top of the thigh-high leather boots. Tiffany made out tattoos of skulls, crows, and spiral designs. The woman noticed her staring and looked at David. He gave her a smile and a nod. She uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, Tiffany's eyes glued to the designs with a combination of awe and terror.

"Yes," I answered. "What do you think of her?"

The woman paused before answering, moving her knees slightly. This caused her thighs to press together, the tattoos swimming before Tiffany's hypnotized stare. "I told you on the phone we don't play those kinds of games here." The woman turned to her partner. "Linda, do you remember the telephone call? About two weeks ago? The man from Chicago?"

Linda calmly filed another nail, blowing another small puff of dust onto the glass countertop. "The one who was bringing in his Asian girlfriend to have some..." she looked up at Tiffany, her eyes traveling slowly from Tiffany's face to her crotch, "...work done?"

Tiffany forced her eyes from the older woman's thighs and turned to look at me. I smiled. I could tell by the languid look on her face that things were proceeding better than planned. I knew that taking her here would produce a certain kind of dissonance in her mind -- her fascination with tattoos and piercings would combine with her fear about my revealing the photos to paralyze her and strip away her normal defenses. It was too early in the game to expect her to feel aroused by her knowledge of her complete helplessness but that would come. In time.

"Yes. Well, this is him. And..." the woman leaned forward, uncrossed her legs and started walking toward the end of the counter, "...her."

Tiffany was frozen. I could tell she wanted to run, to bolt and hit the street, find a taxi, and race back to her dorm but her body wouldn't respond. Right now, all she knew -- all she needed to know -- was that she would do anything I wanted her to do because she couldn't risk my turning the photos over to her parents. The fact that we both knew she wanted this anyway only helped me. It made it worse for her. She couldn't honestly tell herself she was forced. The tension inside her brain must have been intense.

As the woman came around the end of the counter and walked toward Tiffany, I felt my cock stiffen. Her body was amazing, long legs sheathed in black leather, wide hips and a small waist, tattoos running up both sides of her long neck, curling around her ears, visible because of the insanely short haircut. She was an Amazon, a goddess, a commanding presence that filled the room and screamed Sex.

She walked to Tiffany with a manly, powerful stride that made it clear she would not put up with any trouble from either of us. I smiled as I watched Tiffany's shoulders slump -- just the slightest bit, but enough. The woman had just met us and Tiffany was already completely at her mercy. Her parents had trained her well -- she could sense a dominant personality and responded instinctively. I could almost imagine her turning around and offering her backside like any other submissive animal.

I saw Linda smile, no doubt she'd seen this scene played out before. She was the one I'd talked to on the phone, not Marlene. She'd made the arrangements, told me to play along with whatever they did. I watched her as she calmly went on with her filing, a thin dust of residue clouding the top of the display case. She saw me looking and ran a finger through it, a big grin on her face. I stared puzzled but smiled back and nodded.

Marlene stopped a foot or so in front of Tiffany and stood looking at her. Tiffany lowered her eyes, fixed them on the tips of the woman's boots. I saw her fingers tremble slightly, watched her hair and noticed the same thing. It reminded me of the way a dogs trembles during a thunderstorm. Just the slightest tremors, barely noticeable.

"I think I'd like to fuck you," Marlene said suddenly. "Or maybe just see you naked." Tiffany stood completely still. Marlene slowly walked around her, stopping when she was behind her back. She bent down and rested her fingernails on the outside of Tiffany's legs, just above the knees. "Linda? Would you like to see the Asian bitch naked?" Tiffany's legs were actively trembling now, her fingers closed into fists. Linda didn't respond. Everything was silent, the sound of Tiffany's breathing loud in the room. Marlene slowly slid her hands up the back of Tiffany's legs, raising the skirt until it was bunched just underneath her ass. She leaned forward and whispered into Tiffany's ear, "part your thighs."

Tiffany broke then, lunged forward and ran out the front door. I ran after her, my small briefcase still on the countertop. She was leaning against the front of the flower shop next to the tattoo parlor, slumped halfway to her knees.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I asked, standing over her, arms crossed.

"What are you doing? David, what are you doing?" she sobbed, "this isn't what you said we were going to do..."

"Tiffany, Tiffany," I said quietly, staring down at the top of her head. "Maybe you don't understand exactly what the new rules are." She wasn't sobbing now, just breathing slow and loud. Between barred teeth, she snarled, "maybe I don't, *David*. Why don't you tell me about them?"

"Stand up," I said. She didn't move. "Now." She still didn't move but I could hear her breathing had slowed again. She was regaining her composure, her anger receding. I thought about the situation, considered my next move. It was another moment of truth, another line of her defenses that would either stand or be shattered. After a few minutes of silence, I turned calmly and walked back into the tattoo parlor.

I waited inside for less than five minutes before Tiffany walked in, eyes dry and clothes adjusted as well as she could manage. She returned to where she'd been standing when Marlene was touching her. She dropped her arms to her sides and stood for fifteen or twenty seconds. Then, she lowered her eyes and opened her legs. I looked at Linda and smiled. Tiffany had taken another step in her downward spiral.

---

Marlene lost no time pulling Tiffany's skirt up around her waist, exposing her naked cunt and ass. I told her and Linda about Tiffany's full bladder. Linda obliged by bringing a bucket and offering it to Tiffany, who politely declined. Marlene slapped her cheek lightly and said with a grin, "you can't hold it forever, honey," then turned to Linda, "can you?" Linda blushed and shook her head. "No. Trust me. You can't." She rested the bucket on the floor between Tiffany's feet.

The two of them had Tiffany put her hands behind her head, fingers interlaced behind her neck, then squat slightly, knees wide open, bottom pushed out. She cried constantly, tears running slowly down her cheeks, but did everything they asked as quickly as they asked it.

Marlene and Linda walked back behind the counter, ignoring us now. Linda picked up her nail file and Marlene leaned against the wall again, opened a magazine and flipped idly through the pages.

"How long can she hold it?" Linda asked.

"I don't know. I've never done this before."

Linda went back to filing her nails.

"When will Carson be here?" I asked after a few more minutes.

"He's a little unpredictable," Marlene said without looking up. I looked at my watch. We'd been there twenty minute already, which still meant we were a little early. I opened my case and looked through the photos of Tiffany again. Naked, spread, playing with herself, all pretty innocent stuff for blackmail, for most women anyway. But even these simple shots would change her life completely if they ever got out.

I looked up at the scene in front of me. Tiffany, squatting with knees open and skirt up around her waist here in a public place with two other women watching. I took my camera out of the briefcase and took a side shot of her from my chair. Then, I got up and walked around, taking three or four more, always making sure to get one or both of the other women in the shot. Even if her parents weren't totally offended by her position, I could weave a story of a lesbian relationship that would change the photos into something much worse.

As I leaned in to get a closeup of her face, Tiffany whispered, "David, I need to...pee. So bad." I nodded. "Yes, I know."

At about ten minutes before nine, Tiffany stood up abruptly and dropped her skirt, smoothed it down with her hand. She turned to me and said, "David! People!" I looked up as a couple of men in biker gear walked into the store. They laughed and greeted Marlene and Linda, started talking about a movie they'd just seen. One of them -- a bald headed guy with a long, grizzled beard, stared at Tiffany for a minute then turned back to talk with Linda.

"Get back in position," I said to her.

Tiffany's hands went to her skirt and she pulled it up an inch or so but then she stopped, her eyes full of shame and fear. "I can't."

I shook my head, let out a sigh. "Do we have to play this game every time?"  I stood up and pushed my foot against hers, opening her legs. Then, I slid her skirt up around her waist and sat back down. Before the fabric slid back down her thighs, she reached for it and pulled it back up, holding it. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, trying to hide her face.

"College kids playing Master and Slave?" one of the bikers asked Linda, laughing.

"Yeah," she said. "You get it once in a while. Kinda pathetic."

"They're having big fun, though," Marlene added. "She's got a full bladder but she's a shy little thing."

They all laughed and I watched Tiffany's chest shake as she sobbed. I wanted to let them take her in the back room and fuck her -- finally get her past all that virgin teasing and give her a good reaming -- but satisfied myself by taking a few more photos of her with the four of them in the background now.

"Hey, Joe College," Baldie said.

I smiled. "Class of 2002."

"Yeah. Whatever. You want a good picture of your girlfriend here?" He leaned against the counter, pointed at Tiffany.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Just get your camera ready," he said. The two of them exchanged looks. "Nevada City?" "Yeah, Nevada City all the way." They laughed and stepped toward Tiffany. I felt a moment of panic. What if something happened? I couldn't do much to protect her if these guys got out of control, I hadn't anticipated anything like this. Linda had promised me the place was perfectly safe and secure, they'd been there twelve years without any trouble. But this didn't look safe and secure to me.

Linda must have noticed my anxiety because she looked at me and whispered, "they're pussycats, don't worry." I nodded and watched. For the next five minutes, the two men posed and postured, hands on Tiffany's bottom, tongues licking her neck, mouths around her nipples, fingers poised just at her cunt while I clicked picture after picture. They put her on the sofa, spread here legs and took turns laying on top of her, pants pulled down around their knees. They put her head in their laps, her hands down their pants. Tiffany didn't resist and the camera didn't care. Without a single kiss, nipple pinch, or inch of penetration, they'd given me an entire set of pics that would have looked like a gang bang to anyone who wasn't there.

I handed each of them a twenty and told them to have a drink for me. They told me to get their email from Linda and send copies of the photos. Tiffany panicked then and dropped to her knees, begging me not to send them. I looked at her and said, "we'll see. It's all up to you, isn't it? Just keep behaving and everything will be fine."

I left Tiffany there, kneeling on the floor in front of the sofa, while I went to talk to Linda and Marlene. Carson would be along anytime, they said.

"So, you two aren't a pain thing?" Marlene asked.

"No, not really. Discipline."

"Discipline," Marlene repeated. "So, like, you say it and she does it?"

I nodded. "It's the only part of the game I really care about. Everything else is just..."

"I know," Linda interrupted. "I know exactly what you mean. It's the subtle part that's exciting, isn't it?" She stood up and pushed the stool back against the wall. "The part where you show her that you own her completely." She looked at Marlene. "Like Marlene here." I watched as a look came over Marlene's face I hadn't expected. I'd seen that look in Tiffany's eyes. And in a dozen other women's eyes. Marlene -- the Amazon, the one I'd expected was the butch -- was Linda's thrall.

"Show him your piercings," Linda said. Without hesitation, Marlene slid the tight skirt up around her waist, leaned her shoulders against the wall and thrust her hips forward. She opened her legs and used her fingers to open herself and show me a series of eight surgical steel rings along each of her cunt lips. I saw the tattoos as well. The ones that showed between the boots and the skirt continued up into her crotch, swirling designs and tongues of fire that covered her thighs and belly and -- to my shock -- even extended to the inside of her cunt lips, fading as they moved from the labia majora to the labia minora. I could only imagine what it must have been like to get that second set of inner tattoos.

"You like the tattoos?" Linda asked. I was too stunned to say anything. "Tell him about them, Marlene."

"They..." she paused, blushing deep red. I was surprised by that, thought this was old hat for the two of them.

"Marlene is a bit new at this, aren't you, Marlene?" Linda purred softly. She put her hand between Marlene's legs and began stroking her clit. "To showing yourself off to strangers. Showing them your pretty new rings and tattoos." Marlene's body shook. "She cums easily...don't you?" Marlene's neck was flushed red and her eyes watered. "Can you cum again for the nice man," she taunted. I saw Marlene's fingers tense as she pulled her lips open wider. She turned her head, pressed her cheek against the wall. "Tell the nice man about your tattoos. Your cunt tattoos. The inside ones."

Marlene began to speak but her voice clenched as she came again, moaning loud this time. "The tattoos must be redone every few...aaahhhhh..." Linda sped up the circles she was making with her fingers and Marlene came again. "I heard about her from a man she'd been doing video sex with. He found out she lived in the same town as me and gave me her name and email. She's been mine ever since we met." Marlene came again, this time, grinding her hips and begging Linda to stop. "She's got a nice body, eh? And she's a monster in the sack. She licks my cunt until her jaw aches, don't you, dear?" Marlene was begging now for Linda to stop, said she was getting sensitive and it hurt. Linda took her hand away and told her to smooth her clothes.

There was a small, high pitched noise from across the room. We all three turned just in time to see Tiffany pull her hands away from her crotch. I knew she'd cum, I recognized the sound from a dozen phone calls. She put her hands behind her back but her eyes were still glued to Marlene's body.

"We need to get them together sometime," Linda laughed. Tiffany turned red and lowered her eyes.

--- end of Chapter 2