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A cool breeze riffled my hair. Their eyes were on me, expectant and curious.
My stomach swam with a weird mix of confusion and joy. I swallowed. We would be coming here again, and Grayson’s symbol would be apt. “A dragon?”
“Yeah. A dragon on the other side to Satan. Both like playing with fire.” He studied my mouth, stroked beside it. “So do you.”
He encircled the front of my neck above the collar, squeezing there as he smiled. “You’re ours, aren’t you?”
Fuck. My toes curled at the press of his fingers. My mouth fell open as arousal soared into being. “Yes.”
Axl moved in closer. “What was that?”
“She likes being tattooed with ownership symbols. Likes being ours. I’d do a brand on her butt if it wouldn’t risk scarring her in the wrong way.”
“Hell, yeah.” Axl raked me with his gaze. “Damn you for giving me worse ideas. Tying her down while she gets branded with my name?” He sighed.
“As compensation for not branding her with fire, I suggest we sew her pussy together tonight, and make her beg for cock.”
Oh. Fucking. My.That was straying into hell no territory. Which kinda meant, hell yes, to me. I swayed, both horrified and enraptured by such dirty sadistic talk.
He chuckled. “Let’s find this tattoo artist. He’s here, Axl?”
“All arranged.”
The walk upstairs to a room where a tattoo artist sat on a stool seemed surreal.
“We could just make her sit still but wouldn’t that be sad?” Axl grinned. “If we hold her and tie her for you, is that okay?’
The tattoo guy, a balding, heavyset man with his own body covered in blue ink, nodded. He indicated the padded bench waiting for me.
They lifted me and manhandled me onto the bench, facedown, whipped a few leather straps over me at back and waist to hold me to the bench, then Axl and Grayson held down my legs.
Not that I was struggling much. It was fun to squeal a little but knocking over the artist’s equipment would end badly, for me. When I twisted and put a hand to the bench, he grabbed my wrists and bound them at my back.
“Fuck,” I said quietly, testing the firmness of his tie and loving it. “Is everyone here as kinky as shit?”
“Yuuup,” avowed the artist. “Quiet before I do something like tattoo your butthole.”
“Hmmm,” I heard Axl say.
“No!” Grayson chortled. “Or not this time.”
“Huh. I’m making a note, though.”
The session was almost calming after that. The sounds of him working, the pain, it all became a calming montage of things I loved—bondage, being fucked around with, sadism, and their mastery of me. I said owie a few times but mostly held it in. It wasn’t even as painful as I thought it would be.
“Done.” The artist pressed on my skin, cleaning the last area he’d tattooed. “Make sure you bring your little bitch back again.”
They agreed, and I was untied and helped down.
“Kneel for us, now.” That was Grayson. “We can’t do much tonight after this. No chases. Nothing too violent, I assume? No upside-down bondage while we do knife play?”
“Ohhh, there are many glorious things I can suggest.” Tattoo guy winked at me.
Grayson raised his eyebrows. “Excellent. But first, this. We need to seal the moment in history.”
Though I suspected his motives, because his hand went to the fly of his jeans, I barely hesitated and slowly kneeled. Desire rose fiercely.
They both unzipped and took out their cocks.
“Gods.” Axl’s fierce look had returned to his eyes. He spat on his hand then worked his fist up and down the shaft. “Open your mouth, girl. Or else.”
After this, what would they do to me? That was the big question.
Knife play? Clamps and mittens and kitteny things? Like a butt plug tail?
Or my mouth sewn shut while they took me elsewhere? That would be the ultimate predicament bondage. Screaming in the throes of an orgasm would be quite a dilemma.
I squirmed on the spot as Grayson approached, trusting the two of them to take care of me and keep life interesting.
* * *
