Spank Me Tattoo Novels & Stories

I screamed. He smiled. “Still think this is just a tattoo shop?” The Flip He flipped me over chest down, ass up, thighs spread. Spanked me once. Twice. Harder. “You’re going to remember me every time you sit down for the next three days.” Then he bent. Slid back inside with his tongue again. “I’ve had clients beg for pain,” he whispered. “But you? You beg to be owned.” I gasped. Moaned. Shattered.

I try to explain, “No, I just wanted to—” “Then fuck off,” she says. I feel humiliated. The maidens laugh at me but cover their mouths when I turn. I walk off slowly. But she desperately stops me. “My lady, I am so sorry. Where did you get that tattoo from?” She holds onto my hands like a treasure. I withdraw my hands in annoyance, but she begs desperately. “I am a member of the deviant splinters. My father put that tattoo on me when I was twelve.” “It's the same tattoo my brother came home with, the tattoo he had the night before he left the night walker pack, please can you—”

Dean barks. “Free tattoos, man! One hundred dollars for me,” Kyland tells Bash, waggling his brows. “But I have to bet my one hundred dollars?” Bash asks, laughing. “C’mon, Bash,” Sean encourages him to throw his money. “Tattoos.” Kyland sings. “I’m not getting another tattoo,” Bash says. “You’ve got a tattoo?” Sean asks him, seemingly surprised. “Yep.” He smirks. “I did that,” Kyland says proudly, raising his hand.

The tattooed one broke the kiss, spitting on my tits, rubbing it in as he pinched my nipples. They worked in unison—the lean one adding fingers, three thrusting hard, curling to hit my G-spot; the tall one spanking my ass, leaving red handprints; the tattooed one choking me lightly, his other hand rubbing my clit. “Cum for us, slut,” the lean one ordered, and I did, screaming, pussy squirting over his face as my legs buckled.

I was so speechless, I just jumped on him and he winced, the tattoo was still hurting a bit. My fingers traced another ink one on his shoulder, he got this one after his dad died, in memory of him. "Do you always do this when I'm asleep" Bryne's husky voice jolts me back and I quickly remove my hand from his chest. He frowns and sits up, resting his back on the headboard. He yawns and stretches. I gulp, watching his thick muscle extends and flexes. "Come here" I nod and crawl to his arms obediently. He draws circles on my back and hums an inaudible tune.

“So what you’re saying is I need to go to a shop and ask them to tattoo my ass. Great.” Knox’s eyes widen like saucers. “Tattoo your ass?” I nod, dead serious. “Want it to say Property of Little Birdie. Do. Not. Touch.” Glitch throws his head back and howls. “Holy fucking shit, you’re serious. You’re done. Hooked under her finger already.” “Got Ink here, he can do it,” King calls from the corner booth, and I spin to see the Cursed Kings still camped out like they own the lease.

There was also a date in March. It was not jealousy that coursed through him. Instead, it was a desire to have a similar tattoo on the other leg. Briefly, he wondered if they would use their real names or road names. Pushing those thoughts aside, he quickly stripped off the thigh high as Tank settled himself between her legs. Ink positioned her foot and locked the cuff around her ankle. “Lean back, luv.” Tank told her and guided her to his face. He dove into eating her while Ink unhooked her corset.

"It's just needles, Cheryl." "Yeah, absolutely not. I have a phobia of needles," I said, gripping my arm. "It won’t hurt that much, I promise. You’ll barely feel it," she assured me. After a ridiculous amount of back and forth, I finally decided to face my fears. I held onto Anna for dear life through the hardest thirty minutes of my existence while the tattoo artist inked Miles Jun-ho Han onto my skin, right above my ribs, with a small purple butterfly beside it—a symbol of how he made me feel.

"We’re out of here in ten minutes." It doesn’t take long to get the tattoo. Adis has a tattoo artist in the pack who has his own little place down by the tourist area, and we skip the line to go directly into the back room. The owner draws my ‘S’ freehand, as he has done it many times before. I choose to make mine a bit smaller and less flashy than the others. I also get a ‘B’ on the back of my neck, which gives me the same rights as a Beta. I hardly feel the pain; it is nothing compared to what I have endured in my life, both before and here in the underworld.

“Well, we met at The Grinning Skulls.” “The Fallen Angels bar? In the MC clubhouse?” “Yeah.” Spider grinned at the look on Tex’s face. “Can’t quite imagine me there, huh?” “In some ways, I can,” Tex said. “You’ve got the ink and the silver…” He lifted his chin to indicate the spider web tattoo across the other man’s face, the tiny spider tattoos all around his neck, the multiple silver piercings in his ears and on his face. “But I can’t imagine you voluntarily walking into that den of rampant homophobia.”