Chapter 4: (Conclusion)

Julie tried to remember what had brought her to the lair of the crazed Ink Master in the first place but her brain was not working quite right and all she could see was a beautiful butterfly tattoo that now seemed irrevocably denied and yet not forgotten.

The dull pain across her shoulders and back was competing for her attention with the sharp sting deep inside her spunk-dripping cunt that refused to subside even though it had been several hours since her new master Nickolai had used her flesh with demonic expertise.

That utter bitch Bojana was the one sleeping in his corner tonight wrapped in his arms and surrounding his huge member with her anal passageway like some living sleeping bag of throbbing flesh. Needless to say, there was a hint of a smile on the Ink Master's face but it was not a humorous smile or a light-hearted smile. It was a smile of cunning satisfaction having used not just one, but two attractive and nubile young females in his unique and degrading manner.

Julie knew that Nickolai had touched regions of her internal reaches never visited by human flesh spurting his hot lava of lust into every hidden corner and had continued to ravage her willing cunt with his manly tool. She thought of the huge donkey dong that she kept secreted in her bottom drawer for those times when she absolutely had to have a stretching exercise that brought her to the limits of her willful passion. It was almost too scary to even look at the monster when she lathered it up with her jellied lubricant because she had never been able to take the entire length without reneging on her intent.

Nickolai was a different matter entirely.

Once he managed to gain purchase inside her entryway, she knew that all decisions in the matter of her humiliation was completely out of her hands and that she had to take whatever he decided to dish out to her for his pleasure. It was just like his artistic designs on her skin that she had not been consulted about and that she had not seen as yet because it was entirely in an area on her shoulders, back and bottom that she could not see without use of one or more mirrors. She tormented her brain with speculation on what horrors he might have dispensed to her to carry on her exterior for the remainder of her life. She just hoped that psychotic tattoo artist or his degenerate assistant Bojana would not extinguish her life before she had time to peruse the hopefully still living canvas to her heart's content. Her deluded mind was plotting continuously to find a way to eliminate Bojana from the picture and seal her submissive bond with the Ink Master to stay at his side as his new assistant. In her muddled way of thinking that was the best way to insure her safety and prevent her death or sale into slavery to the flesh markets of the East. Her overactive imagination fostered the firm belief that the latter would be far worse than the former in the overall scheme of things.

Since she had first entered the parlor she had seen how the subjugated victims were treated. She knew that begging and pleading only made the captors crueler in their treatment. Julia vowed that she would abstain from such useless acts to forestall their inevitable torture. In all honesty, she had become accustomed to the expanding scope of the artwork on her back. She knew it would probably extend from her hairline all the way down to her ankle and that when it was finished it would be an expression of her existence forever more. Julia was more concerned with what the final product would look like than she was in the discomfort in sitting still for the remaining sessions. She knew that Bojana was already jealous of her still-in-progress developing tattoo because her smaller scattered ones were more normal in both design and size. In a sense, she was relieved that the Ink Master had settled on her for his artistic efforts because other girls had already been screwed, on their knees, tortured and sent off to some flesh market for a profit. They were in for a life of torment that she certainly did not want to experience under any circumstances.

The existence in the parlor was more of a comfort than the prospect of such a depressing and uncertain future with new and perhaps more demanding masters.

Bojana dragged the small oriental girl with the thick long hair down the basement steps deaf to her blubbering and pleas for mercy. The girl looked to be in her mid-twenties and had a small engagement ring on her finger which indicated she was probably not a virgin. It looked like Nikcolai would have an opportunity to check that fact out with his huge tool very shortly. The Ink Master's assistance strapped the girl in face down on the slanted table. Julie stared at the girl's perfectly formed twin cheeks that were streamlined like a super-sonic aircraft where they met her slender tempting legs. She found it a bad sign for the girl's future because the ones that were strapped in face down received the worst treatment and it meant that they had said or done something in the reception office that pissed Nickolai off. He was the kind of man that bore a grudge longer and more vehemently than most females who had a reputation of remembering insults for a very long time.

"Don't tie me down, please don't tie me down. I promise to be a good girl but I have to go to the bathroom. Please let me go. I will be good."

Bojana had already ascended the stairs laughing at the girl's quivering voice.

Julia knew her orders were not to interfere and not to talk to anyone else without permission but she was so sad to see the girl frantic to get urinary relief that she decided to help her with some advice.

"You should not talk too much, little pretty one, it is better to stay silent and just endure what will happen. I would advise you just open your legs wide, let come what may and it will all just run down to the cement floor and into the drain right there by the table. They will only use your need to pee against you and make you do other stuff just to be allowed to do your business."