Spank Me Tattoo Novels & Stories

When he finally pulled out, a rush of his cum leaked down my thighs onto the chair. I lay there trembling, ruined, the fresh ink throbbing in time with my heartbeat. Jax wiped himself casually, then looked down at me with dark satisfaction. “Clean up and get out. But know this… that tattoo’s my mark. You’ll come back whenever I text you for more ink. And you’ll spread for me every single time. Understand?” I nodded weakly, voice hoarse. “Yes…” He tossed me a towel. “Good girl.” I left the studio on shaky legs, cum slowly leaking into my ruined panties with every step. The tattoo burned like a brand. I was supposed to be the good girl.

My hips bucked involuntarily, trying to jerk away, but he pressed down harder with his free hand, pinning my thigh to the table. Cristian didn't even look up at first, his face a mask of bored concentration, sweat beading on his forehead under the harsh fluorescent light. The tattoo gun whirred on, dipping into a pot of black ink before plunging back into my skin. “Relax, little bird,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, laced with that mocking edge he always had. “I'm just marking my territory. The next bastard who gets his hands on you—or should I say, his cock in you—will know you were mine first. See this? It's my signature, right on your dick. A little reminder that I broke you in.

Slowly placing his fingers inside my mouth, I gently suck them - the taste makes me wild. My hips begin to grind against him, the thought of Demitri doing my tattoo running through my mind, the thought of the pleasure I got from having the tattoo on replay. My moans grow. The orgasm is rising. I moan, collapsing on him, as the orgasm rockets around my body. Fuck, now I am in trouble. I wait, any second now. Jackson looks at me, amused, very amused and less angry than I expected. “Do you even need me anymore?” he laughs. “You look more shocked than me Kitten. What happened? Did I go too far this time with spanking?” I moan, my head leaning forward on him.

Then they tie their blouses beneath their firm breasts to show off their midriffs. And lower back. They have naughty tramp stamps tattooed on them. One twin has "Bareback Only" in cursive script. The other has, "Deposits Wanted" The two sluts are tarted out and ready to prowl the mall for the biggest dicks they can find. And none have bigger dicks than my daddy and big brother. When Daddy spots those sluts, he knows it's time to teach Carter how to fuck barely legal poon. It's a father's duty to make sure his son knows how to pound the skanks and give them the dicks they crave so much.

I stiffen a moan and erase the long mark on my skin. Slowly, I move the pen upward a bit, so it kisses with the soft mound of my pussy, the rise of my smooth outer lips, just close to the line of my panties, and I tattoo his name… Bold enough for him to see. MERCER. There it is, his name on my pussy, on his fucking pussy. Because he owns me. I watch his self-control snap, see his fingers twitch on the table, the hard breathing of his chest… how hard his jaws get, that anyone can map the outline of his dentition.

“But it’s more painful to work over the spine. The shoulder would be more comfortable.” I chew on my lip, considering it. I mean, I’ve just spent two weeks being broken, drowned, electrocuted and poisoned. Surely, I can’t balk at a tattoo? “Can you draw it out in the size you think would look best, with the runes worked in, and then we can, see?” I ask. “Absolutely. Give me about ten minutes.”

If we were flying like that, it wouldn’t really matter. As I threw on a cute little dress that accentuated my girls, my Feisty tattoo caught my eye in the mirror. I held out my arm and ran my fingers over it. ~Sixteen Years Ago~ “I don’t know, are you really getting tattoos from someone out of their house? Is that even sanitary,” I snapped, smacking Corey’s chest. “It’s the guy though. Like he owns the Inked Rebel shop … he just is doing this for us as a favor. He’s a fan. He knows we’re all still mostly underage,” Jude said, trying to smooth it over.

He whispered, “I have a lot of tattoos under this uniform. Wanna see?" "Not now." He laughed mischievously. “You can get tattoos?” "Yes, I'm a tattoo artist, working at Johnson parlor." "Gallery Row?" “New branch, in Sante Alley.” He nodded slightly. His legs moved cheerfully. “I want to tattoo my body in a special part next time. Can you make one?” "Sure, anywhere, I'll make it." I played Sea games on purpose just to get my revenge on that steroid overdose bastard. How does it feel to see your boyfriend being teased by a thug, hmm?

I start to say, feigning surprise. SPANK! I flinch, surprised by the intensity of the sudden stinging sensation across my left ass cheek. I’m still processing the feel of the first spank when Tate rains 4 more spanks down on my ass. I twist my hips as Tate peppers my bum with spanks. He has a tight grip on me, and I can feel wetness leaking down my legs as I ‘struggle’ to get away. Each hit feels like a spark across my ass, and when Tate finishes the spanks, I can still feel a tingly sensation across my ass. I stand up and reach back to grab my ass. It feels a little sore, but as I shift my legs, rubbing them together, I realize that I’m a little turned on.

Every smack, every caress, is a reminder of who I belong to, of the trust and surrender between us. The spanking continues, my cries of pleasure echo in the room, and the butterfly tattoo on my chest feels like it’s fluttering with excitement. Finally, the spanking ceases, and my body is ablaze with desire. His hands soothe my heated skin, his fingers gently massaging the areas he’d just punished. Then he releases my wrists and ankles, and I turn to face him, my eyes filled with a mix of desire and devotion. He leans in and captures my lips in a tender kiss. “You took your punishment so well, my love. I’m proud of you.”