Chapter 27 – Cody
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cody
There’s plenty of space for me to tattoo her body, but Shay made it clear to me before agreeing to this that she has no positive perception of tattoos.
“Do you really have to destroy my body?” she asks as I position my overhead lamp and test the foot pressure I need to get the needle moving.
“I’m not destroying your body.”
“You’re going to tattoo Property of Indian on my thigh,” she says, with audible disgust coloring her tone. “This is the worst day of my life.”
“I have a good design in mind. Can’t you trust me?”
I look at her and can see blatantly that she doesn’t trust me. It’s too bad. I trust her. I love her. Shay is the best thing to ever happen to me. I’m surprised that someone as wicked and selfish as Oske brought me the perfect woman.
“This is a slave fantasy,” Shay protests. I try to fight the initial stab of offense.
“This shit has nothing to do with slavery,” I snap at her, somewhat regretting my tone, although Shay doesn’t seem to be put-off by my bearish response to her.
She demands something a little more complicated, “Explain the history then.”
“Biker clubs are dangerous. We live in a world with no laws. The cops hate us or they don’t give a fuck about us. We have enemies. If anything happens to you, there is physical proof that somebody loves you. Somebody will burn the world to keep you safe.”
I wet her thigh with rubbing alcohol and dab it clean.
Shay shivers and stays silent. I don’t know if she understands, but it doesn’t matter.
I wait for her skin to dry before I stencil my tattoo pattern on her skin.
Shay reminds me of bright yellow sunflowers, so I weave those into the cursive font.
I put a horse in the background of the tattoo and show her everything I put down once I’m done.
“You’re going to shade all of that?”
“Yes.”
“I hate you so much,” she whispers.
“You hate it?”
“No,” she says, our eyes meeting in a way that makes me feel like all hope isn’t lost between the two of us, despite the force I’ve had to use to keep her with me. “You’re the one I hate right now.”
“I’ll make it better once we’re done.”
“That’s not what I signed in the contract,” she says. “You still have that last thing before I’ll be able to feel better and even then…”
She’s not going to guilt trip me out of this, although I’m not as much of a monster as Shay thinks I am.
Hurting her is the only way I know how to keep her.
I start working on her with the needle. I don’t know if it’s pride or her toughness, but she doesn’t show any pain as I work on the outline.
She says nothing for the first hour of work, but she looks away once I have to wipe off blood the first couple times.
I never put ink down on dark skin before and although I’m afraid of hurting her too badly while getting the ink in, I want the ink to show up on Shay’s skin.
She takes it well. We don’t talk throughout the rest of the process.
It’s late by the time I’m done. Kylie gave Caleb dinner and he fell asleep watching a movie before Shay could come tuck him in for the night.
“Do you want to see it?”
I’m almost as sweaty as Shay. When you get that much ink done, especially if you never had a tattoo before, your body pumps you full of adrenaline, and there’s a lot more sweat. I’m just sweaty because of exertion and a little excitement.
“I don’t know,” she says, giving me a withering look. “I never wanted a tattoo.”
“Get up.”
Shay holds her dress up as she slowly leaves my workstation and heads towards the large mirror on the dresser opposite our bed. I turn the overhead lights on, causing her another pained grimace.
“It looks…” she looks over at me and there’s just the slightest smile on her face. “Better than I thought.”
“It’s my best work.”
“It won’t be exposed all the time.”
“No. It won’t be,” I tell her. “Take the dress off. I’ll need to clean you up, cover it and then… We’ll move on to the next part.”
“Right,” Shay mutters in a low voice. “The part you’re most excited for, I’m sure.”
She knows me well. Why shouldn’t I feel excited about this?
“Take the dress off.”
Shay slowly peels the sleeve away from her shoulder and drops the dress over her curves until it falls to the ground. It’s hard for me to put how I feel into words. She looks beautiful stripped down and covered in a thin layer of sweat like this. Her skin glistens. Her whole body glistens.
Her black bra can barely hold back her enormous breasts and I desperately want to rip it away from her body. The folds of her curves hold onto her panties and I mark the tattoo placement on her thigh – it’s perfect.
“You look hot, Shay.”
“Please…”
I know she wants to tell me to shut up, but she glances down at her thigh and I see that flicker of uncertainty again.
I wish she didn’t feel so unsure. I like how the tattoo looks on her.
Property of Indian. I love having visual proof that she’s always going to be mine.
I clean her up a bit as she examines the tattoo in the mirror.
When I’m done, I slather the piece of art in enough Aquaphor jelly to comfort the stinging.
Her skin takes the ink pretty well, but she doesn’t enjoy the sensations.
I wrap her tattoo, manipulating the plastic wrap around her thigh and sealing the fresh ink for the time being.
I need that tattoo covered until we’re done with the dirtier part of our night. Once I have her tattoo covered, there’s no more delaying the inevitable. My wife’s body language shifts. She fears this more than the tattoo.
Shay casts me a withering sidelong glance as she moves to stand in front of me. She wants me to take this last opportunity to pull back from the second part of our new contract, but there’s no way in hell I’m leaving Shay alone for a moment without some reminder that she chose to be here.
And unfortunately, I’ll have to run to go handle her ex-husband once we’re done here after I get a few hours of sleep.
“This would be easier near the bed. Get on over there.”
Shay obediently walks over to our bed and bends over. Her ass jiggles in a way that tempts me so painfully that my cock instantly strains against my pants, despite the exhaustion I feel from tattooing her thigh.
The truth is… I got the buttplug for Shay a long time ago.
I knew that I wouldn’t be able to constantly please her with my cock.
It’s too painful. Too much for both of us to handle the tension.
The warm, tight fullness in her ass from constantly wearing a buttplug…
that will send a much more clear message to Shay that she belongs to me – and absolutely nothing she does will change that.
The die is cast – Shay Hollingsworth will never leave my ranch.
I peel her panties down over her ass cheeks. Shay moves her thighs to adjust her position for her own comfort. The way her curvy body jiggles with each movement makes it impossible for my dick to ignore. Every inch of her gets me hard.
Her buttcheeks seal together around the precious hole that I need access to.
I allow Shay a few more moments to adjust. I walk over to our dresser with the sealed black velour box.
Inside the box, a heavy rose gold butt bulb and a diamond-encrusted flared base awaits us.
It’s a pity she won’t be able to see how sexy her ass looks swallowing this smooth piece of metal.
There’s no need to be cruel. I bring a scented, warming lubricant over to our bed and start off by squirting a healthy amount onto Shay’s ass cheeks, allowing the thick glob to dribble between her cheeks and slide down her crack into her slit.
She makes a soft whimpering noise as I struggle to control my primal urges.
I want to fuck her so badly it hurts. Tonight, I need to exercise restraint, even if it looks downright tantalizing to watch the biggest ass cheeks I’ve ever seen wriggle and spread warm lubrication until she looks soaking wet and inviting.
Again, my dick strains against my pants.
The soft surprise of lubrication sliding between her folds will be the only gentle surprise I have for her tonight.
My fingers spread Shay apart, allowing more lubrication to slide around and I guide more of it towards her asshole with my index finger, pushing inside her an inch or two until she squeals from a mixture of surprise and discomfort. It’ll feel much better the more lube I slide into her ass…
Once I have her nice and lubricated, I remove the rose gold treasure from its satin case. The plug is the perfect quiet symbol of ownership – even stronger than the tattoo, which exists more for Shay’s protection than my gratification. The buttplug on the other hand…
Every time I think about Shay, I’ll know that she has this metal plug in her ass that reminds her of my presence. If she wants it removed – she’ll have to ask. I could make this pain last as long as it takes until I feel certain of her loyalty.
Weeks? Months?
Until she produces a positive pregnancy test and I’m sure that she’ll have to stay with me forever…