Chapter 21: Marked Property
The tungsten needle’s buzz was a spiteful insect drilling into the nerve of her thigh. Brandy’s scream tore from her raw throat, a sound swallowed by the velvet walls as her cunt spasmed, a brutal, involuntary clench around the remote-controlled plug buried inside her. Jessie leaned against the steel trolley, her thumb resting on the dial. “Louder,” she murmured, and turned it.
The vibration erupted from a dull hum to a screaming tremor, shaking Brandy’s pelvis against the leather restraint. Margo didn’t flinch, her gloved hand steady as she guided the needle, etching the first elegant curve of the ‘J’. Every puncture was a bright, precise star of pain that bloomed and raced straight to her throbbing clit, the two sensations merging into a single, incomprehensible torture. “Fuck! Oh, god, please—” Brandy begged, her body arching.
“Please what?” Jessie asked, her voice cool. She turned the dial another notch. The plug seemed to grow teeth, vibrating against her G-spot with a force that blurred her vision. “You asked for this, you greedy bitch. You wanted to be marked.” Margo wiped away a bead of blood and ink, revealing the dark, possessive line taking form.
Tears cut clean trails through the remains of her makeup. The ‘e’ followed, then the ‘s’, each stab a lightning strike that made her juices slick the chair beneath her. Jessie’s name was being carved into her, a brand more permanent than any corporate title. “Now everyone will know who owns this desperate, dripping hole,” Jessie said, her eyes locked on Brandy’s. “Say it.”
“You own it,” Brandy gasped, the words a shattered confession. Margo dipped the needle again, the buzz descending once more.
Margo dipped the needle again, the buzz descending once more. “Tighter,” Jessie commanded, watching Brandy’s abdominal muscles quiver as her cunt convulsed around the invasive pulse. The needle pierced, sealing ‘Jessie’ into her skin with a final dot that felt like a nail being driven home.
Jessie released the dial. The sudden silence in her body was a different kind of shock. “Margo, the gun.” A sleek, black cordless shaver was placed in her hand. Its weight was familiar, absolute. She clicked it on.
The new vibration, superficial and aggressive, crawled up Brandy’s other thigh. Jessie placed the buzzing teeth against the sensitive skin of Brandy’s pubic mound, just above her exposed, slick folds. “This belongs to me, too.” She pushed forward, shearing off the dark, neat triangle of hair Brandy had maintained for a decade. “Every part of you.” The hair fell away in soft, silent clumps, revealing pale, vulnerable skin. She worked methodically, clearing the landscape, the shaver’s purr a territorial statement. Gooseflesh erupted in its wake. Brandy whimpered, watching the last vestige of her own chosen privacy vanish into the air.
Jessie discarded the shaver, its hum dying. Her fingers, slick from Brandy’s own arousal, traced the bare, stubbled flesh now surrounding her swollen, open cunt. She thrust two fingers inside without preamble, a deep, claiming penetration. “This hungry fuck-hole needs its own brand.” She curled her fingers, finding that spongy, weeping spot inside. “You’ll come when I tattoo ‘cunt’ right here.” She withdrew her glistening fingers, smearing the wetness across Brandy’s bare mound. “And you’ll thank me for it.”
“And you’ll thank me for it.” Margo handed Jessie a different machine, its tip fitted with a single, cruel needle. Jessie straddled the chair, her weight pinning Brandy’s trembling hips, and dipped the needle into a pot of the blackest ink. She pressed the buzzing tip against the raw, shaved skin of Brandy’s pubic mound, just above her clit.
The sting was vicious, a white-hot punctuation in the ache. “The word is ‘Red’s’,” Jessie murmured, tracing the first letter into the soft flesh. Each pass of the needle was a bright, searing line that burned deeper than the laser had. Brandy’s cunt, empty and clenching around nothing, felt the vibration through her bones.
Her back arched off the leather, a strained, silent scream caught in her lungs. “Fucking say it, Brand.” Jessie completed the possessive apostrophe with a firm, downward stroke.
The pain shifted, mutating into a twisted, undeniable throb that echoed in her empty core. “It’s Red’s,” Brandy gasped, the admission tearing out of her. Her hips gave a shallow, pleading jerk upwards, seeking pressure against the torment.
Jessie smirked, moving the needle down to begin the ‘c’. She paused, letting the buzz hover. “Louder. Let Margo hear who owns this greedy fucking slit.” She pressed down again, etching the curve into Brandy’s most intimate skin.
“Red’s cunt!” Brandy shouted, the vulgarity a liberation. Her vision swam as Jessie worked, the word forming just above her exposed, dripping lips.
The final ‘t’ was a searing brand of finality. Jessie lifted the machine, its hum ceasing. She examined her work, the stark, black letters claiming the territory. “Now it’s legal.”
She leaned down, her breath hot. “You get your reward.” Her mouth covered Brandy’s clit, tongue lashing the hypersensitive bud with brutal, focused strokes.
xxxxxxmargo tattoos
Her tongue was a rough, relentless point of friction, a counter-rhythm to the deep ache of the fresh ink on her mound. Brandy’s hips bucked, tethered only by the wrist restraints, a raw sound escaping her as the climax tore through her, violent and unconsecrated. Jessie pulled back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, watching Brandy shudder through the last waves.
“Margo,” Jessie said, her voice hoarse. “The other name. Where we discussed.” Margo nodded, already preparing her machine with a fresh cartridge of ink. The buzz started again, a higher, finer whine than Jessie’s gun.
She moved to Brandy’s inner thigh, opposite the freshly healed script of ‘Jessie’. The needle touched down, a hot, insistent punctuation on the tender skin. It traced the first capital ‘B’ of ‘Brandy’, each puncture a bright, sickening kiss that made Brandy flinch. “Hold still,” Margo muttered, her focus absolute. “Or the line will blur.” Jessie’s hand came down on Brandy’s stomach, pinning her.
“You feel that?” Jessie asked, her thumb stroking the sweat-slick skin below her navel. “That’s your name going into your own skin, right next to your wet cunt.” The needle buzzed, completing the ‘r’. “My name marks my property. Your name marks your surrender.” Brandy turned her head, watching the word form in stark, black clarity. A final, permanent record of the person being unmade here. The ‘y’ was completed with a precise dot. Margo wiped the site, revealing the twin declarations now permanently flanking her sex. Jessie’s fingers trailed from Brandy’s stomach, slipping through the slick folds, and pressed the remote in her pocket. The plug inside Brandy ignited once more, a deep, internal tremble that resonated against the fresh, stinging ink.
xxxxxxblood flows
The plug inside Brandy ignited once more, a deep, internal tremble that resonated against the fresh, stinging ink. "Check the collar line, Margo," Jessie said, her eyes not leaving Brandy's face. "The fresh filler should hold, but I want the buckle's impression locked in."
Margo’s latex-clad fingers probed the swollen, tender lump of hyaluronic acid in Veronica’s throat, pressing the metal D-ring deep into the engineered cushion. Veronica’s breath hitched, a shallow gasp, as the pressure found a new, permanent home. "It’s seated," Margo confirmed."Good." Jessie’s attention snapped back to Brandy, whose hips were making tiny, desperate circles against the buzzing invasion inside her. "You’re still too quiet." She pulled a thin, cruel-looking cane from the trolley, its length glossy and dark.
It whistled before it landed, a sharp crack across Brandy’s inner thigh, right over the wet, weeping lines of her new tattoo. Brandy screamed, a raw, ragged sound. The pain was a bright white sheet, instantaneous and blinding.
Blood flowed freely.
It welled instantly from the raised welt, thick and startlingly red against her pale skin and the black ink. It traced a hot, deliberate path down her thigh, mingling with her sweat. "There," Jessie breathed, watching the rivulet reach the chair’s leather. "Now it’s part of the art."
She tossed the cane aside with a clatter. "Clean it, but don’t sterilize it. I want it to scar." Margo blotted with gauze, the pressure making Brandy jerk, but the bleeding persisted, a slow, willing seep.
Jessie unbuckled her own trousers, shoving them down her hips. "You’ve earned your first real fuck in this new skin." She positioned herself at the chair’s edge, her cunt hovering over Brandy’s mouth. "Clean me first. Use that expensive tongue."
The scent was musky, stark, overwhelming. Brandy’s lips parted, and her tongue extended, meeting coarse red hair and slick, swollen flesh. She licked a slow, tentative stripe, and Jessie ground down against her face. "Harder. Get your whole fucking mouth in it."
Brandy’s tongue delved deeper, thrusting into the salt-and-musk tang of Jessie’s cunt, her nose pressed into coarse red curls. Jessie rocked forward, a low groan escaping her as she gripped Brandy’s hair, fingers tangling in the short, lasered stubble. “Yeah, just like that, you desperate slut,” she murmured, her voice ragged, grinding her swollen clit against the flat of Brandy’s tongue.
The metallic taste of her own blood, still seeping from the cane welt on her thigh, mixed with Jessie’s essence in her mouth. Jessie pulled back, her cunt glistening from Brandy’s mouth, and turned towards the cart. “Margo, the fucking strap,” she said, her breathing slightly hitched. “The black one, with the knot.”
Margo silently handed her a harness and a thick, obsidian dildo, its length and girth imposing, veined and realistically crowned. Jessie buckled the straps around her hips with practiced, efficient tugs, the weight of the silicone hanging heavy against her own sex. She scooped a generous handful of clear lubricant from a nearby jar, slicking the shaft with a slow, slick sound that echoed in the quiet room.
She moved to the side of the chair, her eyes meeting Brandy’s. “You wanted this.” It wasn’t a question. She used her slick hand to smear lube roughly over Brandy’s exposed, shaved lips and against the clenched rim of her hole, her fingers circling but not entering. “You wanted a truth, not a game.”
The cold pressure of the dildo’s broad head nudged at Brandy’s entrance. Brandy’s body went rigid, a new kind of anticipation seizing her lungs. Jessie leaned her weight forward, the sound of her own breathing harsh in Brandy’s ear.
The stretch was immediate, a blunt, inexorable invasion that made Brandy gasp, her inner muscles burning as they were forced wide around the silicone shaft. Jessie pushed deeper, a slow, merciless advance that felt like it reached her spine. She paused, fully seated, letting Brandy feel the sheer, unforgiving fullness. “Every inch of this,” Jessie whispered, her hand finding the bleeding cane welt on Brandy’s thigh.
PQ She pressed her thumb hard into the raw wound. The sudden, searing pain ripped a sob from Brandy’s throat, but it also triggered a violent, involuntary clench around the dildo buried inside her. A dark, filthy moan tore from Brandy’s chest, her hips bucking against the restraint.
Jessie began to move, short, brutal thrusts that jolted the chair. Each drive hit a deep, internal threshold, a spot that sent electric shocks radiating into Brandy’s belly. The remote-controlled plug, still buzzing inside her rectum, created a maddening counter-rhythm. “Feel that, you owned bitch?” Jessie grunted, picking up pace. “You’re just a set of fuck-holes now.”
The combined sensations, pain and pleasure coiling impossibly tight, built into a silent, screaming pressure behind Brandy’s eyes. Her cunt convulsed, a helpless, ragged spasm around the thick, moving silicone.Blood flowed.
It seeped anew from the welt, a fresh, hot trickle following the path of Jessie’s thrusting hips, smearing the chair and Jessie’s own thighs with dark, wet streaks. The rhythm stuttered, became erratic, desperate.